A 


BLOWING  UP  THE  GERMAN   MUNITION  FACTORY; 


AIR  SERVICE  BOYS 
OVER  THE  RHINE 

OR 

FIGHTING  ABOVE  THE 
CLOUDS 

BY 

CHARLES  AMORY  BEACH 

AUTHOR    OF    "AiR    SERVICE    BOYS    FLYING    FOR    FRANCE,' 
"Am  SERVICE  BOYS  OVER  THE  ENEMY'S  LINES,"  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

ROBERT  GASTON  HERBERT 


THE  WORLD  SYNDICATE  PUBLISHING  CO. 

CLEVELAND.  O.  NEW  YORK,  N.  Y. 


Copyright,  1919 

b 

GEO.  SULLY  &  COMPANY 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 

b.v 

THE  COMMERCIAL  BOOKBINDING  CO. 
CLEVELAND,  O 


AIR  SERVICE  BOYS  OVER  THE  RHINE 
CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    DOUBLE  NEWS i 

II    ANXIOUS  DAYS n 

III  ON  TO  PARIS  ......  21 

IV  SUSPICIONS 29 

V    THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  PARIS     .  36 

VI    THE  RUE  LAFAYETTE  RUINS  45 

VII    TOM'S  FATHER 54 

VIII    WHERE  Is  MR.  RAYMOND?  .     .  61 

IX    VARIOUS  THEORIES     ....  70 

X    THE  "Duo" 78 

XI    A  MONSTER  CANNON       ...  86 

XII    FOR  PERILOUS  SERVICE  ...  93 

XIII  THE  SPY 101 

XIV  WITH  COMRADES  AGAIN  .     .     .  no 
XV    THE  PICKED  SQUADRON  .     .     .  119 

XVI    MISSING 128 

XVII    SEEKING  THE  GUN     ....  136 

iii 

1133115 


iv  CONTENTS 

XVIII  A  CLOUD  BATTLE 145 

XIX  QUEER  LIGHTS 154 

XX  THE  BIG  GUN 164 

XXI  DEVASTATING  FIRE     .     .     .     .  170 

XXII  OVER  THE  RHINE      .     .     .     .  179 

XXIII  OFF  FOR  GERMANY    ....  190 

XXIV  PRISONERS        .      .     .     .     .     .  197 

XXV  THE  ESCAPE  ......  205 


AIR   SERVICE   BOYS  OVER 
THE  RHINE 

CHAPTER  I 

DOUBLE  NEWS 

"HERE  they  come  back,  Tom  P' 

"Yes,  I  see  them  coming.  Can  you  count 
them  yet?  Don't  tell  me  any  of  our  boys  are 
missing!"  and  the  speaker,  one  of  two  young 
men,  wearing  the  uniform  of  the  Lafayette 
Escadrille,  who  were  standing  near  the  hangars 
of  the  aviation  field  "somewhere  in  France," 
gazed  earnestly  up  toward  the  blue  sky  that  was 
dotted  with  fleecy,  white  clouds. 

There  were  other  dots  also,  dots  which  meant 
much  to  the  trained  eyes  of  Tom  Raymond  and 
Jack  Parmly,  for  the  dots  increased  in  size,  like 
oncoming  birds.    But  they  were  not  birds.   Or  « 
rather,  they  were  human  birds. 

The  specks  in  the  sky  were  Caudrons.  A  small 
aerial  fleet  was  returning  from  a  night  raid  over 
the  German  ammunition  dumps  and  troop 
centers,  and  the  anxiety  of  the  watching  young 
men  was  as  to  whether  or  not  all  the  airmen, 
among  whom  were  numbered  some  of  Uncle 

i 


2  DOUBLE  NEWS 

Sam's  boys,  had  returned  in  safety.  Too  many 
times  they  did  not — that  is  not  all — for  the  Hun 
anti-aircraft  guns  found  their  marks  with  deadly 
precision  at  times. 

The  Caudrons  appeared  larger  as  they  neared 
the  landing  field,  and  Tom  and  Jack,  raising 
their  binoculars,  scanned  the  ranks  —  for  all 
the  world  like  a  flock  of  wild  geese  —  to  see  if 
they  could  determine  who  of  their  friends,  if 
any,  were  missing. 

"How  do  you  make  it,  Tom?"  asked  Jack, 
after  an  anxious  pause. 

"I'm  not  sure,  but  I  can  count  only  eight." 

"That's  what  I  make  it.  And  ten  of  'em  went 
out  last  night,  didn't  they?" 

"So  I  heard.  And  if  only  eight  come  back 
it  means  that  at  least  four  of  our  airmen  have 
either  been  killed  or  captured." 

"One  fate  is  almost  as  bad  as  the  other, 
where  you  have  to  be  captured  by  the  Boches," 
murmured  Jack.  "They're  just  what  their  name 
indicates  —  beasts !" 

"You  said  something!"  came  heartily  from 
Tom.  "And  yet,  to  the  credit  of  airmen  in  gen- 
eral, let  it  be  said  that  the  German  aviators  treat 
their  fellow  prisoners  better  than  the  Hun 
infantrymen  do." 

"So  I've  heard.  Well,  here's  hoping  neither 
of  us,  nor  any  more  of  our  friends,  falls  over  the 


DOUBLE  NEWS  3 

German  lines.  But  look,  Tom !"  and  Jack  pointed 
excitedly.  "Are  my  eyes  seeing  things,  or  is 
that  another  Caudron  looming  up  there,  the 
last  in  the  line?  Take  a  look  and  tell  me.  I 
don't  want  to  hope  too  much,  yet  maybe  we 
have  lost  cnly  one,  and  not  two." 

Tom  changed  the  focus  of  his  powerful  glasses 
slightly  and  peered  in  the  direction  indicated 
by  his  chum.  Then  he  remarked,  with  the  bin- 
oculars still  at  his  eyes : 

"Yes,  that's  another  of  our  machines!  But 
she's  coming  in  slowly.  Must  have  been  hit  a 
couple  of  times." 

"She's  lucky,  then,  to  get  back  at  all.  But 
let's  go  over  and  hear  what  the  news  is.  I  hope 
they  blew  up  a  lot  of  the  Huns  last  night." 

"Same  here!" 

The  aircraft  were  near  enough  now  for  the 
throbbing  of  their  big  motors  to  be  heard,  and 
Tom  and  Jack,  each  an  officer  now  because 
of  gallant  work,  hurried  across  the  landing 
field. 

It  was  early  morning,  and  they  had  come, 
after  a  night's  rest,  to  report  for  duty  with 
others  of  the  brave  Americans  who,  during  the 
neutrality  of  this  country  in  the  great  conflict, 
went  to  France  as  individuals,  some  to  serve  as 
ambulance  drivers,  others  to  become  aviators. 

The  Caudron  is  the  name  given  to  one  type 


4  DOUBLE  NEWS 

of  heavy  French  aeroplane  carrying  two  or 
more  persons  and  tons  of  explosive  bombs. 

An  air  raid  on  the  German  lines  by  a  fleet  of 
these  machines  had  been  planned.  It  had  been 
timed  for  an  early  hour  of  the  night,  but  a  mist 
coming  up  just  as  the  squadron  of  heavy 
machines,  each  with  two  men  and  a  ton  or  more 
of  explosives,  was  ready  to  set  out,  the  hour  had 
been  changed.  So  it  was  not  until  after  mid- 
night that  the  start  had  been  made. 

And  now  the  boys  were  coming  back  —  that 
is  all  who  were  able  to  return.  One  machine 
was  missing.  At  least,  that  was  the  assumption 
of  Tom  and  Jack,  for  they  could  count  but  nine 
where  there  should  have  been  ten.  And  of  the 
nine  one  was  coming  back  so  slowly  as  to 
indicate  trouble. 

One  by  one  the  machines,  which  ordinarily 
came  back  before  daybreak,  landed,  and  the 
pilot  and  the  observer  of  each  climbed  clumsily 
down  from  their  cramped  seats.  They  were  stiff 
with  cold,  in  spite  of  the  fur-lined  garments  they 
wore  —  garments  that  turned  them,  for  the 
moment,  into  animated  Teddy  bears,  or  the  like- 
ness of  Eskimos. 

Their  faces  were  worn  and  haggard,  for  the 
strain  of  an  airship  bombing  raid  is  terrific. 
But  they  were  quiet  and  self-possessed  as  they 
walked  stiffly  across  the  field  to  make  a  report. 


DOUBLE  NEWS  5 

"Any  luck?"  asked  Tom,  of  one  he  knew;  a 
Frenchman  noted  for  his  skill  and  daring. 

"The  best,  mon  ami,"  he  replied  with  a  smile 
• — a  weary  smile.  "We  gave  Fritz  a  dose  of 
bitter  medicine  last  night." 

"And  he  gave  us  a  little  in  return,"  sadly 
added  his  companion.  "Quarre  and  Bias — "  he 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  Tom  and  Jack  knew 
what  it  meant. 

They  were  the  men  in  the  missing  machine, 
the  Caudron  that  had  not  come  back. 

"Did  you  see  what  happened?"  asked  Jack. 

Picard,  to  whom  Tom  had  first  spoken,  an- 
swered briefly. 

"They  caught  them  full  in  the  glare  of  a 
searchlight  and  let  them  have  it.  We  saw  them 
fall.  There  didn't  seem  to  be  any  hope." 

"But  the  battery  that  did  the  firing  —  it  is  no 
more,"  added  De  Porry,  the  companion  of 
Picard.  "The  bombs  that  Quarre  and  Bias 
carried  went  down  like  lead,  right  on  top  of  the 
Hun  guns.  They  are  no  more,  those  guns  and 
those  who  served." 

"It  was  a  retributive  vengeance/'  murmured 
Picard. 

Then  they  passed  on,  and  others,  landing, 
also  went  to  make  their  reports. 

Some  of  them  had  reached  their  objectives, 
and  had  dropped  the  bombs  on  the  German 


6  DOUBLE  NEWS 

positions  in  spite  of  the  withering  fire  poured 
upward  at  them.  Others  had  failed.  There  is 
always  a  certain  percentage  of  failures  in  a  night 
bombing  raid.  And  some  were  unable  to  say 
with  certainty  what  damage  they  had  caused. 

The  last  slowly  flying  machine  came  to  a 
landing  finally,  and  there  was  a  rush  on  the  part 
of  the  other  aviators  to  see  what  had  happened. 
When  Tom  and  Jack  saw  a  limp  form  being 
lifted  out,  and  heard  murmurs  of  admiration 
for  the  pilot  who  had  brought  his  machine  back 
with  a  crippled  engine,  they  realized  what  had 
happened. 

The  two  brave  men  had  fulfilled  their  mission ; 
they  had  released  their  bombs  over  an  important 
German  factory,  and  had  the  terrible  satisfaction 
of  seeing  it  go  up  in  flames.  But  on  their  return 
they  had  been  caught  in  a  cross  fire,  and  the 
observer,  who  was  making  his  first  trip  of  this 
kind,  had  been  instantly  killed. 

The  engine  had  been  damaged,  and  the  pilot 
slightly  wounded,  but  he  had  stuck  to  his  con- 
trols and  had  brought  the  machine  back. 

There  was  a  little  cheer  for  him,  and  a  silent 
prayer  for  his  brave  companion,  and  then  the 
night  men,  having  made  their  reports,  and  hav- 
ing divested  themselves  of  their  fur  garments, 
went  to  rest. 

"Well,  what's  on  the  programme  for  to-day, 


DOUBLE  NEWS  7 

Tom?"  asked  Jack,  as  they  turned  back  toward 
the  hangars  where  they  had  their  headquarters 
with  others  of  their  companions  in  the  Lafayette 
Escadrille  and  with  some  of  the  French  bird- 
men, 

"I  don't  know  what  they  have  on  for  us. 
We'll  have  to  wait  until  the  orders  come  in.  I 
was  wondering  if  we  would  have  time  to  go  and 
see  if  there's  any  mail  for  us." 

"I  think  so.    Let's  go  ask  the  captain." 

They  had,  of  course,  reported  officially  when 
they  came  on  duty,  and  now  they  went  again 
to  their  commanding  officer,  to  ask  if  they 
might  go  a  short  distance  to  the  rear,  where 
an  improvised  post-office  had  been  set  up  for  the 
flying  men. 

"Certainly,  messieurs,"  replied  the  French 
captain,  when  Tom  proffered  the  request  for 
himself  and  his  chum.  "Go,  by  all  means."  He 
spoke  in  French,  a  good  mastery  of  which  had 
been  acquired  by  our  heroes  since  their  advent 
into  the  great  war.  "Your  orders  have  not  yet 
arrived,  but  hold  yourselves  in  readiness.  Fritz  is 
doubtless  smarting  under  the  dose  we  gave  him 
last  night,  and  he  may  retaliate.  There  is  a 
rumor  that  we  may  go  after  some  of  his 
sausages,  and  I  may  need  you  for  that." 

"Does  he  mean  our  rations  have  gone  short, 
and  that  we'll  have  to  go  collecting  bolognas?" 


8  DOUBLE  NEWS 

innocently  asked  a  young  American,  who  had 
lately  joined. 

"No,"  laughed  Tom.  "We  call  the  German 
observation  balloons  'sausages.'  And  some- 
times, when  they  send  up  too  many  of  them, 
to  get  observations  and  spoil  our  plans  for 
an  offensive,  we  raid  them.  It's  difficult 
work,  for  we  have  to  take  them  unawares  or 
they'll  haul  them  down.  We  generally  go  in  a 
double  squadron  for  this  work.  The  heavy 
Caudrons  screen  the  movements  of  the  little 
Nieuports,  and  these  latter,  each  with  a  single 
man  in  it,  fire  phosphorus  bullets  at  the  gas 
bags  of  the  German  sausages. 

"These  phosphorus  bullets  get  red  hot  from 
the  friction  of  the  air,  and  set  the  gas  envelope 
aglow.  That  starts  the  hydrogen  gas  to  going 
and  —  good-night  to  Mr.  Fritz  unless  he  can 
drop  in  his  parachute.  A  raid  on  the  sausages 
is  full  of  excitement,  but  it  means  a  lot  of  prep- 
aration, for  if  there  has  any  rain  or  dew  fallen 
in  the  night  the  gas  bags  will  be  so  damp 
that  they  can't  be  set  on  fire,  and  the  raid  is 
off" 

"Say,  you  know  a  lot  about  this  business,  don't 
you?"  asked  the  young  fellow  who  had  put  the 
question. 

"Nobody  knows  a  lot  about  it,"  replied  Jack. 
"Just  as  soon  as  he  does  he  gets  killed,  or  some- 


DOUBLE  NEWS  9 

thing  happens  to  him.  We're  just  learning  — 
that's  all." 

"Well,  I  wish  I  knew  as  much,"  observed  the 
other  enviously. 

Tom  and  Jack  walked  on  toward  the  post- 
office,  being  in  rather  a  hurry  to  see  if  there 
was  any  mail  for  them,  and  to  get  back  to  their 
stations  in  case  their  services  were  needed. 

As  they  went  along  they  were  greeted  by 
friends,  of  whom  they  had  many,  for  they  had 
made  names  for  themselves,  young  as  they  were. 
And,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  nearly  all  the  aviators 
are  young.  It  takes  young  nerves  for  the  work. 

"Here's  one  letter,  anyhow !"  observed  Tom, 
as  he  tore  open  a  missive  that  was  handed  to 
him.  "It's  from  dad,  too !  I  hope  he's  all  right. 
He  must  have  been  when  he  wrote  this,  for  it's 
in  his  own  hand." 

"I've  got  one  from  my  mother,"  said  Jack. 
"They're  all  well,"  he  went  on,  quickly  scanning 
the  epistle.  "But  they  haven't  received  our  last 
letters." 

"That  isn't  surprising,"  said  Tom.  "The  mail 
service  is  fierce.  But  I  suppose  it  can't  be 
helped.  We're  lucky  to  get  these.  And  say!" 
he  exclaimed  excitedly,  as  he  read  on  in  his 
letter.  "Here's  news  all  right  —  great  news !" 

Jack  looked  at  his  chum.  Tom's  face  was 
flushed.  The  news  seemed  to  be  pleasurable. 


io  DOUBLE  NEWS 

Jack  was  about  to  ask  what  it  was,  when  he 
saw  a  messenger  running  from  the  telephone 
office.  This  was  the  main  office,  or,  at  least,  one 
of  the  main  offices,  in  that  section,  and  official, 
as  well  as  general,  news  was  sometimes  sent 
over  the  wire. 

The  man  was  waving  a  slip  of  paper  over  his 
head,  and  he  was  calling  out  something  in 
French. 

"What's  he  saying?"  asked  Jack. 

"Something  about  good  news,"  answered 
Tom.  "I  didn't  get  it  all.  Let's  go  over  and 
find  out.  It's  good  news  all  right,"  he  went  on. 
"See!  they're  cheering." 

"More  news,"  murmured  Jack.  "And  you 
have  some,  too?" 

"I  should  say  so!  Things  surely  are  happen- 
ing this  morning!  Come  on!"  and  Tom  set  off 
on  a  run. 


CHAPTER  II 

ANXIOUS   DAYS 

WHILE  Tom  and  Jack  were  hastening  toward 
the  man  who  seemed  to  have  received  some 
message,  telephone,  telegraph  or  wireless,  from 
the  headquarters  of  this  particular  aviation  sec- 
tion, a  throng  of  the  aviators,  their  mechan- 
icians, and  various  helpers,  had  surrounded  the 
messenger  and  were  eagerly  listening  to  what 
he  had  to  say. 

"I  wonder  what  it  can  be,  Torn,"  murmured 
Jack,  as  the  two  fairly  ran  over  the  field. 

Those  of  you  who  have  read  the  two  preced- 
ing volumes  of  this  series  will  remember  Tom 
Raymond  and  Jack  Parmly.  As  related  in  the 
first  book,  "Air  Service  Boys  Flying  for  France ; 
or  The  Young  Heroes  of  the  Lafayette  Esca- 
drille,"  the  youths  had,  some  time  previously, 
gone  to  a  United  States  aviation  school  in  Vir- 
ginia, their  native  state,  and  there  had  learned 
the  rudiments  of  managing  various  craft  of  the 
air.  Tom's  father  was  an  inventor  of  note, 
and  had  perfected  a  stabilizer  for  an  aeroplane 

11 


12  ANXIOUS  DAYS 

that  was  considered  very  valuable,  so  much  so 
that  a  German  spy  stole  one  of  the  documents 
relating  to  the  patent. 

It  was  Tom's  effort  to  get  possession  of  this 
paper  that  led  him  and,  incidentally,  his  chum 
Jack  into  many  adventures.  From  their  homes 
in  Bridgeton,  Virginia,  they  eventually  reached 
France  and  were  admitted  into  that  world- 
famed  company  —  the  Lafayette  Escadrille. 
Putting  themselves  under  the  tuition  of  the 
skilled  French  pilots,  the  Air  Service  boys 
forged  rapidly  to  the  front  in  their  careers. 

It  was  while  on  a  flight  one  day  that  they 
attacked  a  man  in  a  motor  car,  who  seemed  to 
be  acting  suspiciously  along  the  sector  to  which 
our  heroes  were  assigned,  and  they  pursued 
him,  believing  him  to  be  a  German  spy. 

Their  surmise  proved  correct,  for  the  man, 
who  was  hurt  when  his  machine  got  beyond 
control,  was  none  other  than  Adolph  Tuessig, 
the  German  who  had  vainly  tried  to  buy  Mr. 
Raymond's  stabilizer  from  him,  and  who  had, 
later,  stolen  the  paper. 

In  our  second  volume,  entitled,  "Air  Service 
Boys  Over  the  Enemy's  Lines ;  or  The  German 
Spy's  Secret,"  Tom  and  Jack  found  further  ad- 
ventures. On  their  way  to  England,  whence 
they  had  gone  to  France,  they  had  met  on  the 
steamer  a  girl  named  Bessie  Gleason.  She  was 


ANXIOUS  DAYS  13 

in  the  company  of  Carl  Potzfeldt.  The  girl 
seemed  much  afraid  of  him,  though  he  was  her 
guardian,  said  to  have  been  so  named  by  Mrs. 
Gleason,  a  distant  relative  of  his.  Mrs.  Gleason 
had  been  on  the  ill-fated  Lusitania,  and  it  was 
related  by  Potzfeldt,  for  purposes  of  his  own, 
that  Bessie's  mother  had  been  drowned.  More- 
over, he  declared  that  before  she  died  she  had 
given  him  charge  of  Bessie. 

Tom  and  Jack,  the  latter  especially,  grew  very 
fond  of  Bessie,  but  there  seemed  to  be  a  mystery 
about  her  and  something  strange  in  her  fear  of 
her  guardian. 

When  the  two  young  men  reached  England, 
they  lost  sight,  for  a  time,  of  their  fellow  pas- 
sengers, but  they  were  destined  to  meet  them 
again  under  strange  circumstances. 

During  one  of  their  flights  they  landed  near 
a  lonely  house  behind  the  German  lines.  They 
were  traveling  in  a  Caudron,  which  contained 
them  both,  and  on  investigating  the  building 
after  dark  they  found,  to  their  surprise,  that 
Bessie  and  her  mother  were  kept  there,  prison- 
ers of  Carl  Potzfeldt,  who  was  a  German  spy. 

Bessie  and  her  mother  were  rescued  and  then 
departed  for  Paris,  the  latter  to  engage  in  Red 
Cross  work,  and  the  boys,  remaining  with  their 
fellow  aviators,  longed  for  the  time  when  they 
might  see  their  friends  once  more. 


14  'ANXIOUS  DAYS 

But  they  had  enlisted  to  help  make  the  world 
sife  for  democracy,  and  they  intended  to  stay 
until  the  task  was  finished.  Over  a  year  had 
elapsed  since  the  sensational  rescue  of  Bessie 
and  her  mother.  The  United  States  had  entered 
the  war  and  the  Air  Service  boys  were  thinking 
that  soon  they  might  be  able  to  join  an  Amer- 
ican aviation  service  in  France. 

"What  is  it?  What  has  happened?"  Tom 
demanded  of  one  of  the  aviators  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  throng  about  the  messenger.  "Have  we 
won  a  victory  over  the  Germans?" 

"No,  but  we're  going  to,"  was  the  answer. 
"Oh,  boy!  It's  great!  We're  in  it  now  sure! 
Hurray!" 

"In  it  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  Jack. 

"I  mean  that  Uncle  Sam  has  at  last  stepped 
over  the  line !  He's  sure  enough  on  the  side  of 
the  Allies  now,  and  no  mistake." 

"You  mean  — "  cried  Tom. 

"I  mean,"  answered  Ralph  Nelson,  another 
American  aviator,  "that  the  United  States  has 
made  a  big  success  of  the  Liberty  Bonds  loan 
and  is  going  to  send  a  million  soldiers  over  here 
as  soon  as  possible !  Say,  isn't  that  great  ?" 

"Great  ?  I  should  say  so !"  fairly  yelled  Tom. 
"Shake!"  he  cried,  and  he  and  his  chum  and 
everybody  else  shook  hands  with  every  one 
whose  palm  they  could  reach.  And  there  were 


ANXIOUS  DAYS  15 

resounding  claps  on  the  back,  and  wild  dances 
around  the  green  grass,  even  the  French  joining 
in  No  not  that  word  "even,''  for  the  French, 
with  their  exuberance  of  spirit,  really  started 
the  joy-makmg. 

To  the  brave  men,  who,  with  the  British,  had 
so  long  endured  the  bnmt  of  the  terrible  blows 
of  the  Huns  alone,  the  efforts  of  the  United 
States  of  America  meant  much,  though  it  was 
realized  that  it  would  be  some  time  before 
Uncle  Sam  could  make  his  blows  really  tell, 
even  though  an  Expeditionary  Force  was 
already  in  the  field. 

"Say,  this  is  the  best  news  ever!"  said  Jack 
to  Tom,  when  quiet,  in  a  measure,  had  been 
restored  "It's  immense!" 

"You  said  something,  old  man!  It's  almost 
as  good  news  as  if  you  had  come  in  and  told 
me  that  you  had  downed  a  whole  squadron  of 
German  aircraft." 

"I  wish  I  could,  Tom.  But  we'll  do  our  share. 
Shouldn't  wonder,  before  the  day  Is  out,  but 
what  we'd  get  orders  to  go  up  and  see  what  we 
can  spot.  But  I'm  almost  forgetting.  You  had 
some  news  of  your  own." 

"Yes,  I  have.  And  now  I  have  a  chance  to 
finish  reading  dad's  letter." 

"But  first  you  can  tell  me  what  the  special 
news  is,  can't  you  ?"  asked  Jack.  "That  is,  unless 


16  ANXIOUS  DAYS 

you  think  it  will  be  too  much  for  me  to  stand 
all  in  one  day — your  news  and  that  about  Uncle 
Sam's  success  in  raising  funds  and  troops." 

"Oh,  I  guess  you  can  stand  it,"  said  Tom  with 
a  smile.  "It's  this.  Dad  is  coming  over!" 

"He  is?  To  fight?" 

"Well,  no,  not  actively.  He's  a  little  too  old 
for  that,  I'm  afraid,  though  he's  anxious  enough. 
But  he  left  for  Paris  the  day  he  wrote  this.  He 
ought  to  be  here  now,  for  he  would,  most  likely, 
get  off  ahead  of  the  mail,  which,  sometimes, 
seems  slower  than  molasses." 

"That's  right!"  exclaimed  Jack,  with  such 
energy  that  Tom  asked : 

"What's  the  matter  ?  Haven't  you  heard  from 
Bessie  lately?" 

"Oh  —  that!"  murmured  Jack,  but  Tom 
noticed  that  his  friend  blushed  under  his  coat 
of  tan.  "Go  on,"  Jack  said,  a  moment  later,  "tell 
me  about  your  father.  Is  the  French  govern- 
ment going  to  give  him  a  big  order  for  his 
stabilizer,  now  that  we  got  that  paper  away  from 
that  sneak  of  a  Tuessig?" 

"Well,  I  guess  dad's  trip  here  has  something 
to  do  with  his  aeroplane  device,  but  he  hints 
in  his  letter  about  something  else.  He  said  he 
didn't  want  to  write  too  much  for  fear  a  spy 
might  get  hold  of  the  information.  But  you 
know  my  father  is  an  expert  on  ordnance  mat- 


ANXIOUS  DAYS  17 

ters  and  big  guns,  as  well  as  in  other  lines  of 
fighting." 

"That's  so,  Tom.  He  certainly  is  a  wonder 
when  it  comes  to  inventing  things.  But  what 
do  you  suppose  his  new  mission  is?" 

"I  can't  quite  guess.  But  it  is  for  the  service 
of  the  Allies." 

"And  you  say  he's  on  his  way  to  Paris  now  ?" 
"He  ought  to  be  there  by  this  time,"  Tom 
answered.  "I'm  going  to  see  if  I  can't  get  per- 
mission to  send  a  message  through,  and  have 
an  answer  from  dad.  Maybe  he  might  get  out 
here  to  see  us." 

"Or  we  could  go  in  and  meet  him." 
"Not  for  a  week.  You  know  we  just  came 
back  from  leave,  and  we  won't  be  over  our  tour 
of  duty  for  seven  days  more.  But  I  can't  wait 
that  long  without  some  word.  I'm  going  to  see 
what  I  can  find  out." 

Tom  and  Jack,  like  all  the  other  American  fliers, 
were  in  high  favor  with  the  French  officers.  In 
fact  every  aviator  of  the  Allied  nations,  no  mat- 
ter how  humble  his  rank,  is  treated  by  his 
superiors  almost  as  an  equal.  There  is  not  that 
line  of  demarcation  noticed  in  other  branches 
of  the  service.  To  be  an  aviator  places  one, 
especially  in  England  and  France,  in  a  special 
class.  All  regard  him  as  a  hero  who  is  taking 
terrible  risks  for  the  safety  of  the  other  fighters. 


18  ANXIOUS  DAYS 

So  Tom  readily  received  permission  to  send 
a  message  to  the  hotel  in  Paris  mentioned  by  his 
father  as  the  place  where  Mr.  Raymond  would 
stay.  And  then  Tom  had  nothing  to  do  but 
wait  for  an  answer. 

Nothing  to  do?  No,  there  was  plenty.  Both 
Tom  and  Jack  had  to  hold  themselves  in  readi- 
ness for  instant  service.  They  might  be  sent  out 
on  a  bombing  expedition  at  night  in  the  big 
heavy  machines,  slow  of  flight  but  comparatively 
safe  from  attack  by  other  aircraft. 

They  might  have  the  coveted  honor  of  being 
selected  to  go  out  in  the  swift,  single  Nieuports 
to  engage  in  combat  with  some  Hun  flier.  To 
become  an  "ace"  —  that  is  a  birdman  who, 
flying  alone,  has  disposed  of  five  enemies  —  is 
the  highest  desire  of  an  aviator. 

Tom  and  Jack,  eager  and  ambitious,  were 
hoping  for  this. 

Again,  in  the  course  of  the  day's  work,  they 
might  be  selected  to  go  up  in  the  big  bimotored 
Caudrons  for  reconnoissance  work.  This  is 
dangerous  and  hard.  The  machines  carry  a 
wireless  apparatus,  over  which  word  is  sent  back 
to  headquarters  concerning  what  may  be  ob- 
served of  the  enemy's  defenses,  or  a  possible 
offensive. 

Often  the  machines  go  beyond  the  range  of 
their  necessarily  limited  wireless,  and  have  to 


ANXIOUS  DAYS  19 

send  back  messages  by  carrier  pigeons  which 
are  carried  on  the  craft. 

By  far  the  most  dangerous  work,  however,  is 
that  of  "relage"  or  fire  control.  This  means  that 
two  men  go  up  in  a  big  machine  that  carries  a 
large  equipment.  Their  craft  is  heavy  and  un- 
wieldy, and  has  such  a  spread  of  wing  surface 
that  it  is  not  easily  turned,  and  if  attacked  by 
a  German  Fokker  has  little  chance  of  escape. 
A  machine  gun  is  carried  for  defense. 

It  is  a  function  of  those  in  the  machine  to  send 
word  back  to  the  battery  officers  of  the  effect 
of  the  shots  they  are  firing,  that  the  elevation 
and  range  may  be  corrected.  And  those  who 
go  out  on  "relage"  work  are  in  danger  not  only 
from  the  fire  of  the  enemy's  batteries,  but  often, 
also,  from  their  own. 

Tom  and  Jack  had  their  share  of  danger  and 
glory  during  the  week  they  were  on  duty  follow- 
ing the  receipt  of  the  two  pieces  of  news.  They 
went  up  together  and  alone,  and  once,  coming 
back  from  a  successful  trip  over  the  enemy's 
lines,  Tom's  machine  was  struck  by  several  mis- 
siles. His  cheek  was  cut  by  one,  and  his  metal 
stability  control  was  severed  so  that  his  craft 
started  to  plunge. 

Tom  thought  it  was  his  end,  but  he  grasped 
the  broken  parts  of  the  control  rod  in  one  hand, 
and  steered  with  the  other,  bringing  his  machine 


20  ANXIOUS  DAYS 

down  behind  his  own  lines,  amid  the  cheers  of 
his  comrades. 

"And  I'm  glad  to  be  back,  not  only  for  my 
sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  machine.  She's  a 
beauty,  and  I'd  have  hated  like  anything  to  set 
fire  to  her,"  remarked  Tom,  after  his  wound  had 
been  dressed. 

He  referred  to  the  universal  practice  of  all 
aviators  of  setting  fire  to  their  craft  if  they  are 
brought  down  within  the  enemy  lines,  and  are 
not  so  badly  injured  as  to  prevent  them  from 
opening  the  gasoline  tank  and  setting  a  match 
to  it.  This  is  done  to  prevent  the  machine,  and 
often  the  valuable  papers  or  photographs  car- 
ried, from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

The  end  of  the  week  came,  the  last  of  seven 
anxious  days,  and  it  was  time  for  Tom  and  Jack 
to  be  relieved  for  a  rest  period.  And  the  days 
had  been  anxious  because  Tom  had  not  heard 
from  his  father. 

"I  hope  the  vessel  he  was  coming  on  wasn't 
torpedoed,"  said  Tom  to  his  chum.  "He's  had 
more  than  time  to  get  here  and  send  me  some 
word.  None  has  come.  Jack,  I'm  worried  1"  And 
Tom  certainly  looked  it. 


CHAPTER  III 

ON  TO    PARIS 

THOSE  were  the  days  —  and  they  had  Been 
preceded  by  many  such  —  when  travel  across 
the  Atlantic  was  attended  with  great  risk  and 
uncertainty.  No  one  knew  when  a  lurking 
German  submarine  might  loose  a  torpedo 
at  a  ship  carrying  men,  women  and  children. 
Many  brave  and  innocent  people  had  found 
watery  graves,  and  perhaps  suffered  first  a  ruth- 
less fire  from  the  German  machine  guns,  which 
were  even  turned  on  lifeboats!  So  it  was  no 
wonder  that  Tom  Raymond  was  worried  about 
his  father. 

"It's  queer  we  can't  get  any  word  from  the 
authorities  in  Paris,"  remarked  Jack,  as  he  and 
his  chum  were  speculating  one  day  on  what 
might  have  happened. 

"Yes,  and  that  helps  to  bother  me,"  Tom 
admitted.  "It  isn't  as  if  they  weren't  trying,  for 
the  officers  here  have  done  all  they  can.  They've 
gotten  off  my  messages,  but  they  say  there  is 
no  reply  to  them." 

21 


22  ON  TO  PARIS 

"Then  it  must  mean  that  your  father,  if  he 
is  in  Paris,  hasn't  received  them." 

"Either  that,  Jack;  or  else  he  doesn't  dare 
reply." 

"Why  wouldn't  he  dare  to,  Tom?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  that  I  can  give  a  good 
reason.  It  might  be  that  he  is  on  such  a  secret 
mission  that  he  doesn't  want  even  to  hint  about 
it.  And  yet  I  can't  understand  why  he  doesn't 
send  me  at  least  a  message  that  he  has  arrived 
safely." 

As  Tom  said  this  he  looked  at  his  chum. 
The  same  thought  was  in  the  mind  of  each 
one: 

Had  Mr.  Raymond  arrived  safely? 

That  was  what  stirred  Tom's  heart.  He 
knew  the  danger  he  and  Jack  had  run,  coming 
across  to  do  their  part  in  flying  for  France,  and 
he  well  realized  that  the  Germans  might  have 
been  more  successful  in  attacking  the  vessel  on 
which  his  father  had  sailed,  than  they  had  the 
one  which  had  carried  Tom  and  Jack. 

"Well,  what  are  we  going  to  do  ?"  asked  Jack 
of  his  chum.  "You  know  we  arranged,  when 
we  should  get  our  leave,  to  go  back  to  that 
pretty  little  French  village,  which  seemed  so 
peaceful  after  all  the  noise  of  battle  and  the 
roar  of  the  aeroplane  engines." 

"Yes,  I  know  we  planned  that,"  said  Tom, 


ON  TO  PARIS  33 

reflectively.  "But,  somehow,  I  feel  that  I  ought 
to  stay  here." 

"And  not  take  our  relief?" 

"Oh,  no.  We'll  take  that,"  decided  Tom. 
"We  must,  in  justice  to  ourselves,  and  those 
we  work  with.  You  know  they  tell  us  an  air- 
man must  always  be  at  his  best,  with  muscles 
and  nerves  all  working  together.  And  a  certain 
amount  of  rest  and  change  are  necessary,  after 
a  week  or  so  of  steady  flying.  So  we'll  take 
our  rest  in  order  to  be  in  all  the  better  shape 
to  trim  the  Fritzies.  But  I  was  thinking  of 
staying  right  here." 

"And  not  go  back  into  the  country?"  asked 
Jack. 

Tom  shook  his  head. 

"I'd  like  to  stay  right  here  until  I  get  word 
from  my  father,"  he  said.  "He  may  send  a 
message  at  any  time,  and  he  knows  I  am  sta- 
tioned here.  Of  course  I  could  send  him  word 
that  we're  having  a  little  vacation,  and  give  him 
our  new  address. 

"But  the  mails  are  so  mixed  up,  and  the  teie- 
graph  and  telephone  systems  are  so  rushed, 
that  he  might  not  get  it.  So  I  think  the  best 
thing  will  be  to  stay  right  here  where  I'll  be  on 
hand  to  get  it  the  moment  word  comes.  But 
don't  let  me  keep  you,  Jack.  You  can  go,  if 
you  want  to." 


24  ON  TO  PARIS 

"Say,  what  do  you  think  I  am?"  cried  his 
chum.  "Where  you  stick,  I  stick !  We'll  both 
wait  here  for  word  from  your  father.  I  have 
a  sort  of  feeling  that  he  is  all  right." 

"Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  suppose  he  is. 
But,  at  the  same  time,  I'm  worried.  I  can't 
explain  it,  but  I  have  a  sort  of  sense  that  he  is 
in  danger." 

"Not  if  he  is  in  Paris,  Tom.  The  German's 
haven't  gotten  within  striking  distance  of  that 
city  yet,  in  spite  of  their  boasts — the  boasts 
of  the  Kaiser  and  of  the  Crown  Prince." 

"No,  if  dad  were  in  Paris  I'd  feel  that  he  was 
comparatively  safe.  But  first  I  want  to  know 
that  he  is.  And  yet,  even  if  he  has  put  up  at 
that  house  in  the  Rue  Lafayette,  where  he  said 
In  his  letter  he'd  stay,  there  may  be  some 

ganger." 

"Danger  in  Paris  ?  What  do  you  mean,  Tom  ?" 

"Well,  Paris  has  been  bombed  from  the  air, 
you  know." 

"True,  Tom.  But,  say!  we've  almost  come 
to  disregard  such  mild  things  as  that  from  the 
Huns,  haven't  we?" 

"Well,  we'll  just  stay  right  on  here,"  decided 
Tom.  "I  don't  mean  to  say  that  we'll  stay 
around  our  hangar  all  the  while,  but  we'll  keep 
in  touch,  throughout  the  day,  with  the  com- 
munication headquarters.  Dad  may  send  a  mes- 


ON  TO  PARIS  2$ 

sage  at  any  time,  and  I  want  to  get  it  as  soon 
as  it  arrives." 

Jack  could  understand  his  chum's  feelings, 
and  so  the  Air  Service  boys,  who,  some  time 
previous,  had  sought  and  received  permission  to 
go  back  several  kilometers  into  the  country  for 
a  rest,  announced  that  they  would  stay  on  at 
the  aerodrome. 

Nor  did  they  lack  excitement.  The  place 
where  they  were  stationed  was  a  busy  one.  For 
every  twenty  pilots  and  observers  there  are 
detailed  about  one  hundred  men  as  helpers. 
There  are  cooks,  photographers,  mechanics  of 
various  sorts,  telephone,  telegraph  and  wireless 
operators,  orderlies  and  servants. 

Of  these  Tom  and  Jack  had  their  share,  for 
it  is  the  business  of  an  airman  to  fly  and  fight, 
and  he  does  nothing  except  in  that  line.  He 
is  catered  to  and  helped  in  every  possible  way 
when  not  in  the  air.  He  has  some  one  to  wait 
on  him,  to  look  after  his  machine,  and  to 
attend  to  his  hurts,  if  he  is  unlucky  enough  to 
get  any.  Of  course  each  flier  goes  over,  per- 
sonally, his  own  craft,  but  he  has  oilers  and 
mechanics  to  do  all  the  detail  work. 

"Well,  there  they  go!"  exclaimed  Tom  to 
Jack  one  morning,  the  second  of  their  "vaca- 
tion," as  they  observed  a  number  of  "aces" 


26  ON  TO  PARIS 

about  to  go  up  and  search  above  the  clouds  for 
some  Hun  to  attack. 

"Yes,  and  I  wish  I  was  with  them!"  said 
Jack. 

"Waiting1  isn't  much  fun,"  agreed  his  chum. 
"I'm  sure  I  can't  understand  why  dad  doesn't 
send  some  word.  If  this  keeps  up  much  longer 
—  Say,  Jack,  look  at  Parla !"  he  suddenly  cried. 
"What's  the  matter  with  him?" 

Jack  looked.  The  men,  in  their  machines, 
had  started  off  to  get  momentum  for  a  rise  into 
the  air.  But  there  had  been  a  rain  and  the 
ground  was  soft,  which  kept  down  the  speed. 
All  the  pilots  seemed  to  get  off  in  fairly  good 
shape  except  one,  Parla  by  name,  who  had 
only  recently  secured  the  coveted  designation 
of  "ace." 

And  then  occurred  one  of  those  tragedies  of 
flying.  Whether  he  was  nervous  at  taking 
a  flight  in  such  distinguished  company,  or 
whether  something  went  wrong  with  Parla's 
machine  never  would  be  known. 

He  was  the  last  in  the  line,  and  as  it  was 
rather  misty  he  might  have  been  anxious  not 
to  lose  sight  of  his  companions.  He  did  not 
take  a  long  enough  run,  and  when  he  reached 
the  end  of  the  field  he  was  not  high  enough 
to  clear  the  line  of  hangars  that  were  in  front 
of  him. 


ON  TO  PARIS  27 

Some  one  shouted  at  him,  not  stopping 
to  realize  that  the  noise  of  the  motor 
drowned  everything  else  in  the  ears  of  the 
pilot. 

The  luckless  man  tried  to  make  a  sharp  turn, 
to  get  out  of  danger.  One  of  his  wing  tips 
caught  on  the  canvas  tent,  or  hangar,  and  in 
another  instant  there  was  a  crash  and  a  mass 
of  wreckage.  From  this,  a  little  later,  poor 
Parla  was  carried. 

But  the  others  did  not  stay,  for  though  the 
shadow  of  death  hovered  over  the  Escadrille, 
the  business  of  war  went  on. 

After  three  days  Tom  and  Jack  could  not 
stand  it  any  longer.  They  begged  for  permis- 
sion to  go  up  into  the  air.  It  was  granted, 
though  officially  they  were  still  on  leave.  As- 
cending together  in  a  Caudron,  on  a  photo- 
graping  assignment,  they  were  attacked  by  two 
swift  German  Fokkers. 

Tom  worked  the  gun,  and  to  such  good 
effect  that  he  smashed  one  machine,  sending 
it  down  with  a  crash,  and  drove  the  second 
off.  So  other  laurels  were  added  to  those  the 
boys  already  had. 

"If  this  keeps  on  we'll  be  soon  wearing  the 
chevrons  of  sergeants,"  said  Jack,  as  they 
landed. 

"Well,  I'd  almost  give  up  hope  of  them  to 


28  ON  TO  PARIS 

hear  from  dad,"  announced  Tom.  "I'm  going 
to  see  if  some  word  hasn't  come." 

But  there  was  no  message.  Still  the  strange 
silence  continued,  and  Tom  and  his  chum  did 
not  know  whether  Mr.  Raymond  had  reached 
Paris  or  not.  Through  his  own  captain,  Tom 
appealed  to  the  highest  authority  at  the  Esca- 
drille,  asking  that  a  last  imploring  message  be 
sent  to  the  addi-ess  in  the  Rue  Lafayette. 

This  was  done,  and  then  followed  another 
day  of  waiting.  At  last  Tom  said: 

"Jack,  I  can't  stand  it  any  longer!  This 
suspense  is  fierce!" 

"But  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?" 

"I'm  going  to  Paris!  That's  what!  Well 
go  there  and  find  my  father  if  he  has  arrived. 
If  he  hasn't — well,  there  is  still  some  hope." 

"Go  to  Paris!"  murmured  Jack. 

"Yes.  It's  the  only  place  where  I  can  make 
uncertainty  a  certainty.  Come  on,  we'll  go  to 
Parisr 


CHAPTER  IV 

SUSPICIONS 

TOM  RAYMOND  started  across  the  field  to- 
ward headquarters.  Jack  followed1,  but  there 
was  a  strange  look  on  the  latter's  face. 

"I  don't  see  how  you're  going  to  Paris," 
remarked  Jack,  at  length.  "Do  you  mean 
we're  to  go  in  separate  machines,  or  together  ?" 

"Oh,  nothing  like  that!"  exclaimed  Tom. 
"We  won't  go  in  machines  at  all.  We'll  go  by 
train,  if  we  can  get  one,  or  by  motor." 

"But  you're  heading  for  the  Escadrille  Head- 
quarters office,  and — " 

"We've  got  to  get  official  permission  to  go," 
explained  Tom.  "We  can't  rush  off,  whenever 
we  like,  as  we  used  to  go  fishing  together." 

To  his  captain  Tom  explained  matters  more 
fully  than  he  had  done  before.  In  effect  he 
related  the  fact  of  having  received  the  letter, 
stating  that  Mr.  Raymond  had  started  for 
Paris,  presumably  to  engage  in  some  work  for 
the  French  government,  or  at  least  for  the 
Allies.  Whether  he  had  arrived  or  not,  and, 
in  the  former  case,  to  ascertain  why  he  had 

29 


30  SUSPICIONS 

not  sent  some  word  to  his  son,  was  the  object 
of  Tom's  quest. 

"I've  tried  and  tried,  from  this  end,  to  get 
in  touch  with  him,"  explained  Tom;  "but 
something  seems  to  happen  to  my  messages. 
I  know  they  leave  here  all  right,  but  after  that 
they  are  lost.  Now  I  have  an  idea  that  there 
is  so  much  going  on  in  Paris — so  much 
necessary  war  work — that  the  ordinary  lines  of 
communication  are  choked.  But  if  I  could  go 
to  the  capital  in  person  I  could  soon  find  out 
whether  my  father  was  at  the  address  he  gave." 

"And  you  want,  do  you,  to  go  together?" 
asked  the  kindly  French  captain,  smiling  at 
Tom  and  Jack. 

"We'd  like  to  go,"  said  Tom. 

"And  go  you  shall.  I  will  write  the  neces- 
sary order.  You  have  done  well,  and  I  under- 
stand you  have  some  days  of  leave  coming. 
To  them  I  shall  add  more.  But  come  back  to 
me,"  he  added,  as  he  filled  out  the  pass  form. 
"Come  back.  We  need  you  Americans  now 
more  than  ever!" 

"We'll  come  back,"  promised  Tom.  "All  I 
want  to  go  to  Paris  for  is  to  find  out  about 
my  father." 

"Ah,  I  envy  you,"  said  the  captain  softly. 
"Both  in  the  possession  of  a  father,  who  must 
be  proud  to  have  such  a  son  as  you,  and  also 


SUSPICIONS  31 

because  you  are  going  to  Paris.  It  is  the  most 
beautiful  —  the  most  wonderful  —  city  in  the 
world.  And  to  think  —  to  think  that  those 
barbarians  would  sack  her!  Ah,  it  is  terrible!" 
and  with  a  sad  nodding  of  his  head,  following 
the  shaking  of  an  avenging  fist  toward  the 
German  lines,  he  waved  Tom  and  Jack  an 
adieu. 

The  two  Air  Service  boys  lost  little  time  in 
making  their  preparations  to  leave  for  the 
French  capital.  They  had  to  get  certain  passes 
and  papers,  and  they  wished  to  say  good-bye 
to  some  of  their  comrades  in  arms.  For,  more 
than  any  other  branch  of  the  service,  is  avia- 
tion uncertain  as  to  life  or  death.  Tom  and 
Jack  well  knew  that  some,  perhaps  many,  of 
those  who  wished  them  "au  revoir,"  and  "bonne 
chance,"  would  not  be  alive  when  they  returned. 
And  Tom  and  Jack  might  not  return  them- 
selves. True,  their  chances  were  comparatively 
good,  but  the  fortunes  of  war  are  uncertain. 

And  so,  after  certain  preliminaries,  Tom  and 
Jack,  their  pet  machines  in  the  hangars,  left 
behind  their  beloved  comrades  and  were  taken 
by  motor  to  the  nearest  railway  station.  There 
they  secured  their  tickets  and  took  their  places 
to  wait,  with  what  patience  they  could,  their 
arrival  in  Paris. 

The  train  was  well  filled  with  "permission- 


32  SUSPICIONS 


,"  or  soldiers  on  leave  for  a  few  days  of 
happiness  in  the  capital,  and  at  certain  stations, 
where  more  got  on,  the  rush  was  not  unlike 
that  at  a  crowded  hour  in  some  big  city. 

"I  see  something  good,"  remarked  Jack,  as 
they  sat  looking  out  at  the  scenery,  glad,  even 
for  a  brief  moment,  to  be  beyond  the  horrors 
of  war. 

"What?"  asked  his  companion. 

"There's  a  dining-car  on  this  train.  We 
sha'n't  starve." 

"Good  enough.  I  almost  forgot  about  eat- 
ing," said  Tom.  "Now  that  you  speak  of  it,  I 
find  I  have  an  appetite." 

They  ate  and  felt  better;  and  it  was  as  they 
were  about  to  leave  the  dining-car  to  go  back 
to  their  places,  that  Jack  nudged  Tom  and 
whispered  to  him: 

"Did  you  hear  what  he  said?" 

"Hear  what  who  said?" 

"That  man  just  back  of  you.  Did  you  have 
a  good  look  at  him?" 

"I  didn't,  but  I  will  have,"  said  Tom,  and, 
waiting  a  moment  so  as  not  to  cause  any  sus- 
picion that  his  act  was  directed  by  his  chum, 
Tom  turned  and  looked  at  the  person  Jack 
indicated.  He  beheld  a  quietly  dressed  man, 
who  seemed  to  be  alone  and  paying  attention 
to  no  one,  eating  his  lunch. 


SUSPICIONS  33 

"Well,  what  about  him?"  asked  Tom.  "I 
don't  see  anything  remarkable  about  him,  ex- 
cept that  he's  a  slow  eater.  I  admit  I  bolt  my 
food  too  much." 

"No,  it  isn't  that,"  said  Jack  in  a  low  voice. 
"But  don't  you  think  he  looks  like  a  German  ?" 

Tom  took  another  casual  glance. 

"Well,  you  might  find  a  resemblance  if  you 
tried  hard,"  he  answered.  "But  I  should  be 
more  inclined  to  call  him  a  Dutchman.  And 
when  I  say  Dutchman  I  mean  a  Hollander." 

"I  understand,"  remarked  Jack.  "But  I  don't 
agree  with  you  in  thinking  that  he  may  be 
from  Holland.  Of  course  men  of  that  nation- 
ality have  a  right  to  go  and  come  as  they 
choose,  where  they  can,  but  I  don't  believe  this 
chap  is  one." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  I  heard  him  mutter  something  in 
German." 

"Well,  lots  of  Hollanders  can  speak  German, 
I  have  no  doubt.  I  can  splutter  a  few  words 
myself,  but  not  enough  to  hurt  me.  I  began 
to  pick  up  some  from  the  prisoners,  after  we 
had  that  experience  with  Potzfeldt,  when  we 
realized  that  even  a  little  knowledge  of  the 
Hun's  talk,  much  as  we  hate  him,  would  be  of 
service.  And  so  you  think  you  heard  this 
fellow  speak  German  ?"  asked  Tom,  as  he  pre- 


34  SUSPICIONS 

tended  to  tie  his  shoe  lace,  to  make  an  excuse 
for  pausing. 

"I'm  sure  I  did,"  said  Jack. 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"Something-  about  wishing  he  had  a  plate  of 
metzel  suppe.  Of  course  I  don't  guarantee  that 
pronunciation,  but — " 

"Oh,  it'll  do,"  said  Tom,  graciously.  "Well, 
there's  nothing  very  suspicious  in  that,  though. 
I  might  wish  for  some  wienerwurst,  but  that 
wouldn't  make  me  a  German  spy." 

"No.  But  take  one  other  thing  and  you'll 
have  to  admit  that  there  is  some  ground  for 
my  belief." 

"What's  the  other  thing,  old  top?"  asked 
Tom,  in  imitation  of  some  Englishmen. 

"He  was  making  drawings  of  the  railroad 
line,"  asserted  Jack. 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"I  saw  him.  He  pretended  to  be  looking  at 
the  carte  de  jour,  and  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a 
sheet  of  paper  on  which  he  was  making  certain 
marks.  I'm  sure  he  was  sketching  out  some- 
thing about  the  railroad,  for  use,  maybe,  in  a 
future  air  raid." 

"Nonsense!"  exclaimed  Tom.  "As  a  matter 
of  fact,  I  don't  doubt  that  the  German  secret 
agents  know  every  foot  of  ground  in  and  about 
Paris.  They  must  have  maps  of  this  railroad 


SUSPICIONS  35 

the  same  as  the  French  have  of  some  of  Ger- 
many's, only  you've  got  to  hand  it  to  the  Huns ! 
They  certainly  went  into  this  thing  well  pre- 
pared ;  the  more  discredit  to  us,  in  a  way.  But 
are  you  sure  of  what  you  say,  Jack  ?"  he  added, 
after  a  moment's  thought. 

"Positive!  I'm  sure  that  man  is  a  German 
spy,  masking  as  a  Hollander  or  possibly  a  Swiss. 
He's  sighing  for  some  of  his  country's  good 
cooking  —  though  that's  one  of  the  few  good 
things  about  it  —  and  he's  making  some  sort 
of  a  map." 

Tom  thought  over  the  matter  a  moment.  The 
man  did  not  appear  to  notice  the  two  chums. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  we  can  do,"  Tom  said. 
"We'll  soon  be  in  at  the  Gare  de  1'Est,  and  we 
can  tip  off  some  of  the  officers  around  there. 
They  can  follow  this  fellow,  if  they  think  it's 
worth  while." 

"Well,  I  think  it's  worth  while,"  said  Jack. 
"If  that  fellow  isn't  a  spy  I'm  a  Dutchman !" 

As  Jack  spoke  the  man  looked  up  and  full 
at  the  two  lads,  almost  as  if  he  had  heard  the 
words. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   BOMBARDMENT   OF   PARIS 

THERE,  Jack!  what  did  I  tell  you?  I  win! 
You  lose,  and  it's  me  for  a  fine  dinner  at  your 
expense!  You  lose!  Do  you  hear?" 

Tom  Raymond,  with  a  hearty  laugh,  clapped 
his  chum  on  the  shoulder,  and  seemed  mirth- 
fully excited  over  something.  As  for  Jack 
Parmly  he  looked  first  at  his  chuckling  comrade 
and  then  at  the  man  he  suspected  of  being  a 
German  spy.  The  latter,  who  had  glanced  keenly 
at  the  boys,  with  something  akin  to  anger  on 
his  face,  now  was  plainly  puzzled. 

"Do  you  understand?"  demanded  Tom  in  a 
loud  voice,  which  attracted  the  attention  of 
many  in  the  car.  But  a  look  at  the  two,  showing 
them  to  be  Americans  and,  therefore,  to  the 
French  mind,  capable  of  any  eccentricity,  seemed 
to  make  matters  right.  Most  of  the  diners 
resumed  their  meals. 

"See  what  I  mean,  Jack?"  went  on  Torn. 
"You  lose!  Understand?" 

"No,  I  don't  understand,"  was  the  low-voiced 
and  somewhat  puzzled  answer. 

* 


THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  PARIS    37 

"Then  for  the  sake  of  your  gasolene  tank 
pretend  that  you  do!"  fiercely  whispered  Tom 
in  his  chum's  ear.  "Play  up  to  my  game !  Don't 
you  see  that  fellow's  suspicious  of  us?  Rethinks 
we've  been  talking  about  him.  I  win,  do  you 
understand  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  answered  Jack,  and  then,  in  a 
louder  tone,  intended  to  allay  suspicion  on  the 
part  of  the  suspect,  he  added:  "You  win  all 
right,  Tom !  I'll  buy  the  dinner.  I  didn't  think 
the  train  would  get  in  so  soon!  It's  one  on  me 
all  right!" 

And  then,  laughing  and  talking  in  seeming 
carelessness,  as  though  they  had  not  a  thought 
in  the  world  but  the  friendly  wager  they  had 
made,  they  went  back  to  their  coach. 

"That  was  a  narrow  squeak,"  observed  Tom. 
"He  was  getting  suspicious  all  right,  and  in 
another  moment  might  have  made  an  indignant 
demand  of  the  guard  that  we  cease  observing 
him.  It  might  have  made  trouble  for  us.  We're 
not  members  of  the  secret  police,  remember." 

"Well,"  remarked  Jack,  "he  might  have  made 
trouble  for  us,  but  I  could  do  the  same  for  him. 
I'd  let  fall  a  hint  about  the  map  of  the  railway 
he  was  sketching." 

"You  mean  all  right,  Jack,  but  I  don't  believe 
your  plan  would  work.  If  that  fellow  really  is 
a  German  spy,  which  I  doubt,  he'd  destroy  the 


38    THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  PARIS 

map,  if  he  made  one,  the  moment  he  thought 
himself  in  danger." 

"Maybe  you're  right,  Tom,"  agreed  his  chum, 
a  bit  dubiously.  "But  I  certainly  think  there  is 
something  wrong  about  that  man." 

"Maybe  you  think  he  is  Carl  Potzfeldt,  dis- 
guised, Jack." 

"No,  nothing  like  that.  Though  I  wouldn't 
be  surprised  if  he  happened  to  be  friendly  with 
that  sneaking  spy.  And,  speaking  of  Potzfeldt, 
Tom,  though  he  isn't  by  any  means  a  pleasant 
subject,  do  you  know  we  are  soon  to  be  in  Paris 
where  —  " 

"Where  Bessie  and  her  mother  are,  you  mean. 
You're  right,  old  chap,  I  haven't  forgotten  that, 
and  I'll  wager  one  chance  for  promotion  that 
you  haven't  forgotten  it  either." 

Jack's  blush  was  sufficient  answer  to  his  friend. 

"I  couldn't  quite  understand  what  you  meant, 
Tom,  by  talking  so  suddenly  and  loudly  about 
you  winning  and  me  losing,"  went  on  Jack,  as 
they  got  their  baggage  ready,  for  the  train  was 
about  to  enter  the  Paris  station. 

"That  was  camouflage,  Jack,  pure  and  un- 
adulterated camouflage,"  answered  Tom  wth  a 
laugh.  "I  had  to  do  something  in  a  hurry  to 
get  that  fellow's  gaze  off  us,  or  he  might  have 
made  a  scene,  and  we  don't  want  that.  But  if 
I  had  made  a  wager  with  you  about  the  time, 


THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  PARIS    39 

I'd  have  won,  for  here  we  are,  right  on  the  dot, 
which  is  unusual  in  these  days,  I  believe." 

"You  said  something,  Tom.  But  what  are 
we  going  to  do  about  our  spy?" 

"Well,  if  you  insist  that's  what  he  is,  I  think 
the  best  thing  would  be  to  notify  some  secret 
service  official.  There  must  be  plenty  of  them 
around  the  station.  Every  passenger,  before  he 
leaves  the  station,  has  to  have  his  papers 
stamped  by  the  military  authorities.  Then's  your 
chance  to  tip  them  off  about  this  chap." 

"I'll  do  it,  Tom.  I'm  not  going  to  lose  any 
chances  of  putting  German  enemies  out  of  the 
way." 

It  was  about  five  o'clock  when  the  train  pulled 
into  the  Gare  de  1'Est,  and  the  passengers,  in- 
cluding many  soldiers  on  leave,  prepared  for 
the  joys  of  Paris.  Tom  and  Jack,  proceeding  as 
did  the  others  to  the  place  designated  for  the 
official  stamping  of  papers,  found  a  chance  to 
tell  their  suspicions  to  an  officer,  and  to  point 
out  the  man  Jack  suspected. 

"The  matter  shall  be  attended  to,"  said  the 
military  official,  treating  the  information  with 
the  utmost  respect,  and  evidently  considering 
it  of  more  importance  than  Tom  imagined  would 
be  attached  to  it  "We  are  greatly  indebted  to 
you,  not  only  because  you  are  of  our  beloved 
aviators,  but  because  you  also  think  to  do  this 


40    THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  PARIS 

for  France  —  to  protect  her  from  enemies  with- 
in as  well  as  from  those  who  are  without.  France 
thanks  you,  gentlemen!"  and  the  aged  officer 
saluted  the  two  young  men  as  though  he  con- 
sidered them  his  equals. 

"Well,  now  that's  off  our  minds  we  can  get 
down  to  the  real  business  that  brought  us  to 
Paris,"  suggested  Tom.  "And  that's  to  find  my 
father  —  if  he's  here.  After  that  we  can  look 
up  Bessie  and  her  mother,  if  you  like,  Jack." 

"Of  course  I'll  be  glad  to  do  that,  Tom,  and 
I  should  think  that  you  — " 

"Oh,  of  a  surety,  yes,  as  a  Frenchman  would 
say.  I'll  be  happy  also,  to  see  our  friends  again, 
but  I  know  Bessie  will  consider  — " 

"Oh,  drop  it,  will  you?"  begged  Jack,  for  he 
could  see  that  his  chum  was  about  to  start  to 
rally  him  about  the  girl. 

"Then,"  went  on  Tom,  "the  first  thing  to  do, 
in  my  opinion,  is  to  get  to  this  address  in  the 
Rue  Lafayette  where  dad  said  he  would  make 
his  headquarters,  and  see  why  he  hasn't  answered 
any  of  my  messages.  When  I  once  see  him,  and 
know  he's  all  right,  I'll  feel  better." 

"Even  capable  of  eating  that  dinner  you  claim 
to  have  won  from  me?"  asked  Jack. 

"Of  course." 

The  two  Air  Service  boys  had  the  satisfaction 
of  seeing  the  "tip"  they  gave  acted  on,  for  as 


THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  PARIS    41 

they  left  the  station  they  observed  the  officer 
to  whom  they  had  reported,  detailing  a  man  in 
plain  clothes,  evidently  one  of  the  secret  police, 
to  follow  the  man  they  had  watched  in  the 
dining  car. 

"We  can  leave  the  rest  to  the  military,"  said 
Tom.  "And  now  let's  get  to  where  we're  going." 

"Hadn't  we  better  arrange  for  hotel  accommo- 
dations, or  to  stop  at  a  pension?"  asked  Jack. 
"You  know  Paris  is  crowded  now,  even  in  war 
times,  and  we've  got  to  stay  here  all  night,  even 
if  we  learn  that  your  father  hasn't  yet  arrived." 

"That'c  so,"  agreed  Tom.  "Maybe  we  had 
better  get  a  place  to  bunk  first." 

It  would  not  have  been  an  easy  task  had  they 
not  worn  the  uniforms  of  aviators.  But  once 
these  were  noted,  they  were  welcomed  with 
smiles,  and  though  at  the  first  place  they  applied 
there  was  no  room,  the  proprietor  busied  him- 
self to  such  advantage  that  the  boys  were  soon 
settled  in  a  big  double  room  with  a  fine  view 
of  a  busy  section  of  Paris. 

On  every  side  was  seen  evidence  of  the  joy 
and  satisfaction  felt  at  the  showing  made  by 
the  progress  of  the  United  States  in  her  war 
programme. 

The  stars  and  stripes  were  seen  floating  from 
many  staffs,  mingled  with  the  tricolor  of  France 
and  the  English  union  jack.  That  Uncle  Sam 


42     THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  PARIS 

had  at  last  gotten  beyond  the  bounds  of  patience 
with  a  ruthless  and  sneaking  enemy  and  was 
making  energetic  warfare  against  him  was  wel- 
come news  to  those  who  had  so  long  borne  the 
unequal  brunt  of  battle. 

"Americans?  Ah,  everything  that  I  have  is 
yours !"  the  hotel  proprietor  told  Tom  and  Jack. 
"You  have  but  to  ask.  And  now  come,  I  will 
show  you  the  way  to  the  cellar." 

"But  we  don't  care  to  see  the  cellar,"  remarked 
Tom  in  wonder.  "No  doubt  it  is  a  very  fine  one, 
monsieur,"  he  added  in  his  best  French,  which 
was  nothing  to  boast  of.  "No  doubt  't  is  most 
excellent,  but  we  don't  care  for  cellars." 

"Ah,  I  know,  but  it  is  for  protection  in  case 
of  an  air  raid  that  I  show  it  to  you.  It  is  there 
we  all  take  shelter.  There  have  been  raids,  and 
there  will  be  more.  It  is  well  to  be  prepared. 
It  is  a  well-protected  cellar." 

"Oh,  well,  that's  different,"  observed  Jack. 
"Come  on,  Tom,  we'd  better  learn  the  best  and 
quickest  route  to  the  basement.  No  telling 
when  we  might  want  to  use  it." 

They  descended  with  the  proprietor  and  saw 
that  he  had  arranged  the  cellar  with  a  false  roof 
of  beams,  on  top  of  which  were  sand  bags.  In 
case  a  bomb  was  dropped  on  the  hotel  or  in  its 
vicinity  the  cellar  would  offer  almost  certain 
protection. 


THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  PARIS    43 

The  boys  arranged  for  a  stay  of  at  least  a 
week  in  Paris,  having  told  the  proprietor  their 
errand  to  the  capital.  By  the  time  they  had 
finished  their  dinner  they  found  it  was  too  late 
to  set  out  in  search  of  Mr.  Raymond,  as  in  the 
changed,  war-time  Paris  little  could  be  done  in 
the  evening.  So  Tom  and  Jack  retired  to  their 
room  and  their  bed. 

"Are  you  going  right  to  the  Rue  Lafayette?" 
asked  Jack  of  his  chum,  the  next  day. 

"Yes,  and  if  we  can't  get  any  news  of  him 
there  we'll  appeal  to  the  military  authorities. 
I  have  a  letter  of  introduction  to  persons  high 
in  authority  from  our  captain." 

The  boys  hailed  a  taxicab  and  gave  the 
chauffeur  the  necessary  directions.  They  were 
bowling  along  through  the  beautiful  streets  of 
Paris,  noting  on  all  sides  the  warlike  scenes,  and 
their  thoughts  were  busily  occupied,  when  they 
suddenly  became  aware  that  something  had 
happened. 

Like  a  thunderbolt  from  a  clear  sky  there 
sounded  a  terrific  explosion,  and  at  no  great 
distance.  The  concussion  shook  the  ground, 
and  they  could  feel  the  taxicab  tremble  under 
the  shock,  while  the  chauffeur  instantly  threw 
on  all  brakes,  making  the  machine  skid  danger- 
ously. 

"What  is  it?  What's  the  matter?"  yelled  Jack. 


44    THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  PARIS 

"Airship  raid  most  likely!"  shouted  Tom. 
"Bodies  are  dropping  bombs  on  Paris!  Oh, 
where's  our  cellar,  Jack?" 

The  taxicab  driver  jumped  down  and  opened 
the  door. 

"You  had  best  alight,  gentlemen,"  he  said. 
"You  must  seek  shelter." 

"Is  it  an  airship  raid?"  asked  Tom. 

"No,  there  is  not  an  airship  in  sight.  No  such 
alarm  has  been  sounded  by  the  police.  I  fear 
the  bombardment  of  Paris  by  the  Germans  has 
begun  P 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  RUE  LAFAYETTE  RUINS 

TOM  RAYMOND  and  Jack  Parmly  alighted 
from  the  taxicab  more  quickly  than  they  had 
gotten  in.  The  chauffeur  was  anxiously  scanning 
the  sky.  Excited  men,  women  and  children 
were  rushing  about,  and  yet  it  was  not  such 
excitement  as  might  be  caused  by  the  first 
shelling  of  the  beautiful  city.  It  was  more,  as 
Tom  said  afterward,  as  though  the  populace 
had  been  taken  by  surprise  by  a  new  method  in 
the  same  kind  of  warfare,  for  an  occasional 
German  Zeppelin  or  a  bombing  aircraft  had, 
before  this,  dropped  explosives.  To  these  the 
French  had  become  as  much  accustomed  as  one 
ever  can  to  such  terrible  means  of  attack. 

But  this  was  different.  There  was  no  sign  of 
a  Hun  aircraft,  and,  as  the  chauffeur  had  said, 
no  police  warning  had  been  sounded. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Jack. 

"It  is  a  bombardment,  that  is  all  I  know," 
replied  the  taxicab  driver.  He  spoke  in  French, 
a  language  which  the  two  boys  used  fairly  well, 

45 


46     THE  RUE  LAFAYETTE  RUINS 

though,  a*  has  been  said,  their  accent  left  much 
to  be  desired. 

"You  had  best  seek  shelter  until  it  is  over," 
went  on  the  man.  "I  shall  do  so  myself."  He 
seemed  to  pause  suggestively,  and  Jack  handed 
him  some  money. 

"Merci,"  he  murmured,  and  an  instant  later 
was  careening  down  the  street  at  full  speed. 

"He  isn't  losing  any  time,"  said  Jack. 

"No.  And  perhaps  we  hadn't  better,  either. 
Where'd  that  shell  fall  ?"  asked  Tom. 

"I  don't  know,  but  it  must  have  been  some- 
where about  here,  judging  by  the  noise.  Look, 
the  crowd's  over  that  way,"  and  he  pointed  to 
the  left. 

It  was  true.  Careless  of  the  danger  of  remain- 
ing in  the  open,  men,  and  women,  too,  as  well 
as  some  children,  were  rushing  toward  the  place 
where,  undoubtedly,  the  shell  from  the  German 
gun  had  fallen. 

"Might  as  well  take  it  in,"  suggested  Jack. 
"I  don't  want  to  crawl  down  into  a  cellar  or  a 
subway  quite  yet,  even  if  there's  one  around 
here ;  do  you  ?" 

"No,"  answered  Tom,  "I  don't.  Go  on,  I'm 
with  you." 

They  followed  the  throng,  but  could  not  resist 
the  impulse  to  gaze  upward  now  and  then  for 
a  possible  sight  of  another  shell,  which,  they 


THE  RUE  LAFAYETTE  RUINS     47 

half  hoped,  they  might  observe  in  time  to  run 
for  shelter.  But  of  course  that  would  have  been 
out  of  the  question.  However,  quiet  succeeded 
the  din  of  the  explosion,  which  had  been  close 
to  the  spot  where  the  taxicab  had  stopped  and 
the  boys  had  alighted. 

Following  the  crowd,  Tom  and  Jack  came  to 
a  side  street,  and  one  look  down  it  showed  the 
havoc  wrought  by  the  German  engine  of  death. 
The  shell,  of  what  kind  or  calibre  could  not  be 
even  guessed,  had  fallen  on  top  of  an  establish- 
ment where  a  number  of  women  and  girls  were 
employed.  And  many  of  these  had  been  killed 
or  wounded.  There  were  heart-rending  scenes, 
which  it  is  not  good  to  dwell  upon.  But,  even 
in  the  terror  and  horror,  French  efficiency  was 
at  the  fore. 

Ambulances  were  summoned,  a  guard  was 
thrown  about  the  building,  and  the  work  of 
aiding  the  injured  and  tenderly  carrying  out  the 
dead  was  begun.  A  vast  and  excited  throng  in- 
creased in  size  about  the  building  that  had  been  hit 
and  there  was  much  excitement  for  a  time. 

Tom  and  Jack  managed  to  get  to  a  place 
where  they  could  get  a  view  of  the  havoc 
wrought  to  the  structure  itself,  and  the  first 
thing  that  impressed  them  was  mentioned  by 
Jack,  who  said : 

"They  didn't  use  a  very  big  shell,  or  there 


48      THE  RUE  LAFAYETTE  RUINS 

wouldn't  have  been  such  comparatively  slight 
material  damage  done." 

"The  force  was  mostly  expended  inside  the 
building,"  suggested  Tom. 

"Even  so,  if  it  had  been  a  big  shell,  the  kind 
they  fired  at  Verdun  and  Liege,  there' d  be  a 
crater  here  big  enough  to  put  a  church  in.  As 
it  is,  only  the  two  top  stories  are  wrecked." 

"That's  right,  agreed  Tom.  "I  wonder  what 
sort  of  explosive  they  are  using?  Must  have 
been  one  from  a  bombing  aeroplane." 

"No,  monsieur,"  interrupted  a  gendarme  who 
was  standing  near.  "Pardon,  for  speaking,"  he 
went  on,  with  a  salute,  "but  there  was  no  airship 
observed  over  Paris  at  all.  The  shell  came  out 
of  the  clear  sky." 

"But  it  couldn't  have,"  insisted  Jack,  in  reply 
to  this  policeman.  "If  the  Germans  are  firing 
on  Paris  they  must  have  some  place  from  which 
to  shoot  their  gun.  Either  on  the  ground  or 
from  an  airship." 

"It  was  not  an  airship,"  insisted  the  gendarme. 
"Excuse  me  for  insisting  this  to  one  who  is  in 
the  air  service,"  and  he  pointed  with  pride  to  the 
uniform  the  boys  wore,  "but  I  have  seen  several 
air  raids,  and  I  know!  There  was  no  airship 
seen,  or  I  would  have  blown  the  alarm,"  and  he 
motioned  to  his  whistle  which  he  carried  for 
that  purpose. 


THE  RUE  LAFAYETTE  RUINS     49 

"It  could  have  come  from  an  immense  airship, 
so  high  up  as  to  be  beyond  observation,"  sug- 
gested Jack.  "That's  possible.  Probably  the 
Germans  didn't  want  to  be  bombarded  them- 
selves by  aircraft  guns  here,  and  they  flew  high." 

The  police  officer  shook  his  head.  He  was 
not  convinced. 

"But,  man,  how  else  could  it  be  ?"  asked  Tom, 
in  some  heat.  "The  Huns  have  to  rest  their  gun 
somewhere,  and  you  —  Say,  Jack !"  he  suddenly 
exclaimed,  his  face  paling  slightly,  "you  don't 
suppose  they  have  broken  through,  do  you?" 

"Through  our  lines  about  Paris?  Never !"  cried 
the  police  officer.  "They  shall  not  pass!  Our 
brave  soldiers  have  said  it,  and  they  will  main- 
tain it.  They  shall  not  pass!" 

"And  yet,"  mused  Tom,  as  he  looked  at  the 
rescue  work  going  on,  "what  other  explanation 
is  there  ?  It's  a  bombardment  of  Paris  all  right, 
by  German  shells.  If  they  don't  come  from  an 
aeroplane,  high  up,  they  must  come  —  " 

His  words  were  drowned  by  another  great 
concussion,  but  farther  off.  The  ground  trem- 
bled, but  there  was  no  sign  of  flying  debris. 

"Another !"  cried  the  gendarme.  "There  goes 
the  gun  again !" 

"I  didn't  hear  any  gun,"  observed  Jack.  "What 
we  heard  was  the  explosion  of  the  shell.  Look 
up,  Tom,  and  see  if  there's  a  Hun  plane  in  sight. 


50      THE  RUE  LAFAYETTE  RUINS 

If  there  is,  pity  we  haven't  our  machines  right 
now." 

The  boys  carried,  slung  over  their  shoulders, 
powerful  binoculars,  and  with  these  they  swept 
the  sky.  Others  about  them  were  doing  the 
same.  By  this  time)  the  most  seriously  injured 
had  been  carried  to  the  hospitals,  and  the  dead 
had  been  removed,  while  those  only  slightly 
hurt,  as  well  as  those  in  the  factory  not  at  all 
injured,  were  telling  their  experiences.  The 
second  explosion  seemed  to  create  great  terror. 

"There  isn't  a  sign  of  a  hostile  plane,"  said 
Tom,  as  he  swept  the  sky  with  his  glasses. 

"I  can't  see  any  either,"  observed  Jack.  "And 
yet  —  " 

There  sounded  the  unmistakable  roar  of  an 
aircraft's  propeller. 

"There  she  is !"  cried  some  one. 

But  it  was  one  of  the  first  of  a  series  of  French 
planes  that  had  hastily  ascended  to  search  the 
heavens  for  a  sight  of  the  supposed  German 
craft  that  had  dropped  the  bombs. 

"What  a  chance  we're  missing!"  murmured 
Jack. 

"Yes,"  agreed  Tom,  "But  they're  going  to 
have  some  flight  before  they  locate  that  Hun. 
There  isn't  so  much  as  a  speck  in  the  sky  except 
the  French  craft" 

"Let's  go  and  see  where  that  other  explosion 


THE  RUE  LAFAYETTE  RUINS       51 

was,"  suggested  Jack,  when  they  had  observed 
several  of  the  French  planes  scurrying  to  and 
fro  over  the  city,  climbing  higher  and  higher 
in  search  of  the  enemy. 

"I'm  with  you,"  announced  Tom.  "I  wonder 
what  dad  thinks  of  this?" 

"It'll  be  something  new  for  him,"  said  Jack. 
"He'll  have  a  good  chance  to  see  how  his 
stabilizer  works,  if  they're  using  it  on  these 
planes  here.  And  maybe  he  can  invent  a  better 
one." 

"Perhaps,"  returned  Tom.  "But,  Jack,  do 
you  know  I'm  worried  about  one  thing." 

"I  have  more  than  that  on  my  mind,  Tom. 
There  are  mighty  serious  times  all  about  us, 
and  it's  terrible  to  think  of  those  poor  women 
and  girls  being  killed  like  rats  in  a  trap.  I'd  just 
like  to  be  in  my  plane,  and  with  a  full  gun,  and 
then  have  a  go  at  the  Hun  who  did  this." 

"So  would  I,"  agreed  Tom,  as  they  made  their 
way  out  of  the  crowd  and  in  the  direction  in 
which  many  of  the  populace  were  hurrying  to 
go  to  the  scene  of  the  second  explosion.  "But, 
Jack,  do  you  know  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  to 
learn  that  the  shell  was  not  from  an  airship 
at  all." 

"Where  would  it  be  from  then?" 

"The  Germans  may  have  massed  such  a  lot  of 
troops  at  some  point  opposite  the  French  lines, 


52      THE  RUE  LAFAYETTE  RUINS 

that  they  have  broken  through  and  have 
brought  up  some  of  their  heavy  guns." 

Jack  shook  his  head. 

"I  don't  believe  they  could  do  it,"  he  said. 
"You  know  the  nearest  German  line  is  about 
seventy  miles  from  Paris.  If  they  had  started 
to  break  through,  and  had  any  success  at  all, 
the  news  would  have  reached  here  before  this. 
And  reinforcements  would  be  on  the  way. 
No,  it  can't  be.  There  must  be  some  other 
explanation." 

"But  what  is  it?"  asked  Tom.  "They've  got 
to  get  nearer  than  seventy  miles  to  bombard 
Paris.  You  know  that." 

"I  don't  think  I  really  know  anything  about 
this  war,"  said  Jack  simply.  "So  many  strange 
things  have  happened,  so  many  old  theories  have 
been  discarded,  and  so  many  new  things  have 
been  done  that  we  don't  know  where  we  are." 

"Well  that's  true.  And  yet  how  could  the 
Germans  get  near  enough  to  bombard  Paris 
without  some  word  of  it  coming  in?" 

"I  don't  know.  But  the  fact  remains.  Now 
let's  get  to  where  the  second  shell  fell.  Maybe 
we  can  see  a  fragment  of  it  and  —  " 

Once  again  the  words  were  interrupted  by  an 
explosion.  This  time  it  was  closer  and  the  shock 
was  greater. 

"That's  the  third!"  cried  Jack. 


THE  RUE  LAFAYETTE  RUINS       53 

"Yes,"  added  Tom,  looking  at  his  watch,  "and 
it's  just  half  an  hour  since  the  first  one  fell.  That 
indicates  they're  firing  every  fifteen  minutes. 
Jack,  there's  something  weird  about  this." 

"You're  right.  That  last  one  came  rather 
close,  too.  I  wonder  where  it  fell  ?" 

A  man,  passing  them,  running  in  a  direction 
away  from  the  sound  of  the  last  explosion,  heard 
Jack's  question.  He  paused  long  enough  to  say : 

"That  shell  fell  in  Rue  Lafayette.  Several 
buildings  are  in  ruins.  Many  have  been  killed! 
It  is  terrible !" 

"Rue  Lafayette!"  gasped  Jack.   "That  —  " 

"That's  where  my  father  is  supposed  to  be 
staying!"  exclaimed  Tom.  "Come!  We  must 
see  what  happened!" 


CHAPTER  VII 

TOM'S   FATHER 

WITH  anxious  hearts  the  Air  Service  boys 
ran  on.  There  was  no  need  to  ask  their  way, 
for  they  had  but  to  follow  the  throng  toward 
the  scene  of  the  most  recent  exhibition  of  the 
Hun's  frightfulness  and  horror. 

As  they  drew  near  the  Rue  Lafayette,  where 
Mr.  Raymond  had  said  he  intended  to  stay  while 
in  Paris,  the  boys  were  halted  by  an  officer  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  throng. 

"Pardon,  but  you  may  not  go  farther,"  he  said, 
courteously  enough.  "There  is  danger.  We  are 
about  to  sound  the  alarm  so  that  all  may  take 
to  shelter.  The  Boches  are  raiding  Paris  again." 

"We  know  it,"  said  Tom.  "But  it  is  no  idle 
curiosity  that  takes  us  on." 

"No  ?"  politely  questioned  the  policeman. 

"No.  I  am  seeking  my  father.  He  wrote  to 
me  that  he  would  stop  in  the  Rue  Lafayette, 
and  I  have  not  heard  from  him  since.  I  was  told 
that  the  last  shell  fell  in  that  street." 

"It  did,"  assented  the  officer,  "and  it  demol- 
ished two  houses  and  part  of  another.  Many 
were  killed  and  injured." 

54 


TOM'S  FATHER  55 

"Then  I  must  see  if  my  father  is  among 
them !"  insisted  the  young  aviator. 

"Pardon,  monsieur,  it  is  not  possible.  I  have 
my  instructions,  and  — " 

He  stopped,  and  for  the  first  time  seemed  to 
become  aware  of  the  uniforms  worn  by  Tom 
and  Jack.  Then  the  officer  saluted  as  though 
proud  to  do  it. 

"Ah,"  he  murmured.  "Of  the  Lafayette  Esca- 
drille!  You  may  go  where  you  will.  Only  I 
hope  it  is  not  into  danger/'  he  said,  as  he  drew 
aside  for  them  to  pass.  "Pardon,  I  did  not  at 
first  sense  who  you  were.  France  owes  you 
much,  messieurs.  Keep  your  lives  save  for  her !" 

"We  will,"  promised  Tom,  as  he  hurried  on, 
followed  by  Jack. 

They  came  to  the  head  of  the  street  they 
sought,  and,  looking  down  it,  beheld  ruins 
greater  than  they  had  seen  before.  As  the  officer 
had  said,  two  buildings  had  been  completely 
demolished,  and  a  third  partly  so,  the  wreckage 
of  all  mingling.  And  amid  these  ruins  police 
and  soldiers  were  working  frantically  to  get  out 
the  injured  and  remove  the  dead,  of  whom  there 
was  a  sad  number. 

Tom's  face  was  white,  but  he  kept  his  nerve. 
He  had  been  through  too  many  scenes  of  horror, 
had  been  too  near  death  too  often  of  late,  as 
had  his  chum,  to  falter  now,  even  though  his 


56  TOM'S  FATHER 

father  might  be  among  those  buried  in  the 
wreckage  caused  by  the  German  shell. 

"Do  you  know  what  number  your  father  was 
to  stop  at  ?"  asked  Jack. 

"Yes,  I  have  his  letter,"  Tom  answered.  "I'm 
afraid,  Jack,  it  was  in  one  of  those  buildings 
that  have  been  blown  apart." 

"No,  Tom!" 

"I'm  afraid  so.  But,  even  at  that,  he  may 
have  had  a  chance  for  his  life.  He  may  have 
been  out,  or,  after  all,  he  may  not  have  arrived 
yet.  I'm  not  going  to  give  up  hope  until  I 
have  to." 

"That's  the  way  to  talk,  old  man.  I'm  with 
you  to  the  last/' 

They  pressed  on,  and  populace  and  officers 
alike  gave  way  before  them  as  they  saw  the 
uniforms. 

"We've  got  to  help!"  declared  Tom.  "We 
must  pitch  in,  Jack,  and  lend  a  hand  here.  The 
soldiers  seem  to  be  in  charge.  Let's  report  to 
the  commanding  officer  and  offer  our  services." 

"But  your  father?" 

"That's  the  best  way  to  find  him  if  he's  in 
those  ruins.  Let  us  help  get  the  unfortunates 
out.  I  hope  I  don't  find  him,  but  I  must  make 
sure." 

Making  their  way  through  the  press  of  people, 
which,  under  order  of  the  police  and  military 


TOM'S  FATHER  57 

authorities,  had  begun  to  disperse  in  some  small 
measure,  Tom  and  Jack  reported  to  the  officer 
in  charge,  giving  him  their  names  and  rank,  at 
the  same  time  showing  their  papers. 

"We  want  to  help,"  the  lads  told  him. 

"And  I  ask  no  better,"  was  the  quick  response. 
"There  are  dead  and  dying  under  that  pile. 
They  must  be  gotten  out." 

And  then  began  heartrending  scenes.  Tom 
and  Jack  did  valiant  work  in  carrying  out  the 
dead  and  dying,  in  both  of  which  classes  were 
men,  women  and  children. 

The  German  beasts  were  living  up  to  the  mark 
they  had  set  for  themselves  in  their  war  of 
frightfulness. 

"Each  time  a  dead  or  injured  man  was  reached, 
to  be  carried  out  for  hospital  treatment  or  to 
have  the  last  sad  rites  paid  him,  Tom  nerved 
himself  to  look.  But  he  did  not  see  his  father, 
and  some  small  measure  of  thankfulness  surged 
into  his  heart.  But  there  were  still  others  buried 
deep  under  the  ruins,  and  it  would  be  some 
time  before  their  bodies,  dead  or  alive,  could 
be  got  out. 

As  the  soldiers  and  police  worked,  on  all  sides 
could  be  heard  discussions  as  to  what  new  form 
or  manner  of  weapon  the  Germans  were  using 
thus  to  reach  Paris.  Many  inclined  to  the  theory 
that  it  was  a  new  form  of  airship,  flying  so  high 


58  TOM'S  FATHER 

as  to  be  not  only  beyond  ordinary  observation 
but  to  be  unreachable  by  the  type  of  planes 
available  at  Paris. 

"If  we  could  only  find  a  piece  of  the  shell  we 
could  come  nearer  to  guessing  what  sort  of  gun 
fired  it,"  remarked  Tom,  as  the  two  Air  Service 
boys  rested  a  moment  from  their  hard,  terrible 
labors. 

"Do  you  mean  if  it  was  dropped  from  an  air- 
ship it  wouldn't  have  any  rifling  grooves  on  it  ?" 
asked  Jack. 

"That's  it.  A  bomb,  dropped  from  an  aero- 
plane, would,  very  likely,  be  only  a  sort  of  round 
affair,  set  to  explode  on  contact  or  by  a  time 
fuse.  But  if  it  was  a  shell  fired  from  a  long-- 
range gun,  there  might  be  enough  of  it  left, 
after  the  explosion,  to  observe  the  rifling." 

"There  isn't  a  gun  with  a  range  long  enough 
to  reach  Paris  from  the  nearest  German  lines, 
unless  they  have  broken  through,"  said  Jack. 

"Well,  the  last  may  have  happened;  though 
I  should  think  we'd  have  got  some  word  of  it 
in  that  case.  There'd  be  fierce  fighting  if  the 
Germans  tried  that,  and  we'd  rush  reinforce- 
ments out  in  taxicabs  as  the  Paris  soldiers  went 
out  once  before." 

"Do  you  think  then,"  asked  Jack,  as  they 
went  back,  after  their  brief  respite,  to  their 
appalling  labors,  "that  they  have  a  gun  long 


TOM'S  FATHER  59 

enough  to  fire  from  their  nearest  point,  which 
is  about  seventy  miles  from  this  city?" 

"I  don't  know  what  to  think,"  remarked  Tom. 
"It  seems  like  a  wild  dream  to  speak  of  a  gun 
that  can  shoot  so  far;  and  yet  reality  is  over- 
topping many  wild  dreams  these  days.  I'm 
going  to  reserve  judgment.  My  chief  concern 
now,  though  of  course  I'm  not  going  to  let  it 
interfere  with  my  work,  is  to  find  my  father. 
If  he  should  have  been  in  here,  Jack  —  " 

Tom  did  not  finish,  but  his  chum  knew  what 
he  meant,  and  sympathized  with  his  unexpressed 
fear  for  the  safety  of  Mr.  Raymond. 

Digging  and  delving  into  the  ruins,  they 
brought  out  the  racked  and  maimed  bodies,  and 
there  was  more  than  one  whose  eyes  were  wet 
with  tears,  while  in  their  hearts  wild  anv!  justifi- 
able rage  was  felt  at  the  ruthless  Germans. 

Ten  had  been  killed  and  nearly  twice  that 
number  wounded  in  the  third  shell  from  the 
Hun  cannon. 

From  a  policeman  Tom  learned  that  one  of  the 
two  buildings  that  had  been  demolished  was 
the  number  given  by  Mr.  Raymond  as  the  place 
he  would  stay. 

"The  place  he  picked  out  may  have  been  full, 
and  he  might  have  gone  somewhere  else,"  said 
Tom.  "We've  got  to  find  out  about  that,  Jack." 

"That's  right.  I  should  think  the  best  person, 


6o  TOM'S  FATHER 

or  persons,  to  talk  to  would  be  the  janitors,  or 
'concierges,'  as  they  call  'em  here." 

"I'll  do  that,"  responded  Tom. 

Aided  by  an  army  officer,  to  whom  the  boys 
had  recommended  themselves,  not  only  by 
reason  of  their  rank,  but  because  of  their  good 
work  in  the  emergency,  they  found  a  man  who 
was  in  charge  of  all  three  buildings  as  a  renting 
agent.  Fortunately  he  had  his  books,  which  he 
had  saved  from  the  wreck. 

"You  ask  for  a  Monsieur  Raymond,"  he  said, 
as  he  scanned  the  begrimed  pages.  "Yes,  he 
was  here.  It  was  in  the  middle  building  he 
had  a  room." 

"In  the  one  that  was  destroyed  ?"  asked  Tom, 
his  heart  sinking. 

"I  regret  to  say  it  —  yes." 

"Then  I  —  then  it  may  be  all  up  with  poor 
old  dad!"  and  Tom,  with  a  masterful  effort, 
restrained  his  grief,  while  Jack  gripped  his 
chum's  hand  hard. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

WHERE  IS  MR.  RAYMOND? 

TOM  RAYMOND,  having-  gone  through  a  hard 
school  since  he  began  flying  for  France,  soon 
recovered  almost  complete  mastery  of  himself. 
The  first  shock  was  severe,  but  when  it  was  over 
he  was  able  to  think  clearly.  Indeed  the  faculty 
of  thinking  clearly  in  times  of  great  danger  is 
what  makes  great  aviators.  For  in  no  other 
situation  is  a  clear  and  quick  brain  so  urgently 
needed. 

"Well,  I'm  sure  of  one  thing,  Jack,"  said  Tom, 
as  they  walked  away  from  the  fateful  ruins.  "Of 
those  we  helped  carry  out  none  was  my  father. 
He  wasn't  among  the  injured  or  dead." 

"I'm  sure  of  that,  too.  Still  we  mustn't  count 
too  much  on  it,  Tom.  I  don't  want  you  to  have 
false  hopes.  We  must  make  sure." 

"Yes,  I'm  going  to.  We'll  visit  the  hospitals 
and  morgues,  and  talk  with  the  military  and 
police  authorities.  In  these  war  times  there  is 
a  record  of  everybody  and  everything  kept,  so 
it  ought  to  be  easy  to  trace  him." 

"He  arrived  all  right,  that's  settled,"  declared 
Jack.  "The  agent's  record  proves  that." 
61 


62        WHERE  IS  MR.  RAYMOND? 

"Yes.  I'd  like  to  have  a  further  talk  with 
that  agent  before  we  set  out  to  make  other  in- 
quiries." 

This  Tom  was  able  to  bring  about  some  time 
later  that  day.  The  agent  informed  the  lad  that 
Mr.  Raymond,  contrary  to  his  expectations,  had 
arrived  only  the  day  before.  Where  he  had  been 
delayed  since  arriving  in  Europe  was  not  made 
clear. 

"But  was  my  father  in  the  building  at  the 
time  the  shell  struck  here?"  asked  Tom. 
"That's  what  I  want  to  know." 

Of  this  the  man  could  not  be  certain.  He 
had  seen  Mr.  Raymond,  he  said,  an  hour  or  so 
before  the  bombardment,  and  the  inventor  was, 
at  that  time,  in  his  room.  Then  he  had  gone 
cut,  but  whether  he  had  come  back  and  was  in 
the  house  when  the  shell  struck  the  place,  could 
not  be  said  with  certainty. 

But  if  he  had  been  in  his  apartment  there  was 
little  chance  that  he  had  been  left  alive,  for  the 
explosion  occurred  very  near  his  room,  de- 
stroying everything.  Tom  hoped,  later,  to  find 
some  of  his  father's  effects. 

"There  is  just  a  chance,  Jack,"  said  the  in- 
ventor's son,  "that  he  wasn't  in  his  room." 

"A  good  chance,  I  should  say,"  agreed  the 
other.  "Even  if  he  had  returned  to  his  room, 
and  that's  unlikely,  he  may  have  run  out  at  the 


WHERE  IS  MR.  RAYMOND?        63 

sound  of  the  first  explosion,  to  see  what  it  was 
all  about." 

"I'm  counting  on  that.  If  he  was  out  he  is 
probably  alive  now.  But  if  he  was  in  his 
room — " 

"There  would  be  some  trace  of  him,"  finished 
Jack. 

"And  that's  what  we've  got  to  find." 

The  police  and  soldiers  were  only  too  willing 
to  assist  Tom  in  his  search  for  his  father.  The 
ruins,  they  said,  would  be  carefully  gone  over 
in  an  endeavor  to  get  a  piece  of  the  German 
shell  to  ascertain  its  nature  and  the  kind  of  gun 
that  fired  it.  During  that  search  some  trace 
might  be  found  of  Mr.  Raymond. 

It  did  not  take  long  to  establish  one  fact — 
that  the  inventor's  body  was  not  among  the 
dead  carried  out.  Nor  was  he  numbered  with 
the  injured  in  the  hospitals.  Careful  records 
had  been  kept,  and  no  one  at  all  answering  to 
his  description  had  been  taken  out  or  cared  for. 

And  yet,  of  course,  there  was  the  nerve- 
racking  possibility  that  he  might  have  been  so 
terribly  mutilated  that  his  body  was  beyond  all 
human  semblance.  The  place  where  his  room 
had  been  was  a  mass  of  splintered  wood  and 
crumbled  masonry.  There  was  none  of  his 
effects  discernible,  and  Tom  did  not  know  what 
to  think. 


64        WHERE  IS  MR.  RAYMOND* 

"We've  just  got  to  wait,"  he  said  to  Jack, 
late  that  afternoon,  when  their  search  of  the 
hospitals  and  morgues  had  ended  fruitlessly. 

Meanwhile  the  French  airmen  had  been 
scouring  the  sky  for  a  sight  of  the  German 
craft  that  might  have  released  the  death-dealing 
bombs  on  the  city.  But  their  success  had  been 
nil.  Not  a  Hun  had  been  sighted,  and  one 
aviator  went  up  nearly  four  miles  in  an  en- 
deavor to  locate  a  hostile  craft. 

Of  course  it  was  possible  that  a  super- 
machine  of  the  Huns  had  flown  higher,  but  this 
did  not  seem  feasible. 

"There  is  some  other  explanation  of  the  bom- 
bardment of  Paris,  I'm  sure,"  said  Tom,  as  he 
and  Jack  went  to  their  lodgings.  "It  will  be  a 
surprise,  too,  I'm  thinking,  and  we'll  have  to 
make  over  some  of  our  old  ideas  and  accept 
new  ones." 

"I  believe  you're  right,  Tom.  But  say,  do 
you  remember  that  fellow  we  saw  in  the  train 
— the  one  I  thought  was  a  German  spy?" 

"To  be  sure  I  remember  him  and  his  metzel 
suppe.  What  about  him?  Do  you  see  him 
again?"  and  Tom  looked  out  into  the  street 
from  the  window  of  their  lodging. 

"No.  I  don't  see  him.  But  he  may  have 
had  something  to  do  with  shelling  the  city." 

"You  don't  mean  he  carried  a  long-range 


WHERE  IS  MR.  RAYMOND?        65 

gun  in  his  pocket,  do  you,  Jack?"  and  Tom 
smiled  for  the  first  time  since  the  awful  tragedy. 

"No,  of  course  not.  Still  he  may  have  known 
it  was  going  to  happen,  and  have  come  to 
observe  the  effect  and  report  to  his  beastly 
masters." 

"He'd  be  foolish  to  come  to  Paris  and  run 
the  chance  of  being  hit  by  his  own  shells." 

"Unless  he  knew  just  where  they  were  going 
to  fall,"  said  Jack. 

"You  have  a  reason  for  everything,  I  see," 
remarked  Tom.  "Well,  the  next  time  we  go  to 
headquarters  we'll  find  out  what  they  learned 
of  this  fellow.  You  know  we  started  the  secret 
service  agents  on  his  trail." 

"Yes,  I  know.  Well,  I  was  just  sort  of  won- 
dering if  he  had  anything  to  do  with  the  bom- 
bardment of  Paris.  You've  got  to  look  for 
German  spies  now,  even  under  your  bed  at 
nigl.t." 

The  boys  felt  they  could  do  nothing  more 
that  day  toward  finding  Mr.  Raymond.  A 
more  detailed  and  careful  search  of  the  ruins 
might  reveal  something.  Until  this  was  accom- 
plished nothing  could  be  done. 

They  ate  a  late  supper,  without  much  in  the 
way  of  appetites,  it  must  be  confessed,  and  then 
went  out  in  the  streets  of  Paris.  There  seemed 
to  be  few  signs  of  war,  aside  from  the  many 


66        WHERE  IS  MR.  RAYMOND? 

soldiers,  and  even  the  bombardment  of  a  few 
hours  earlier  appeared  to  have  been  forgotten. 
But  of  course  there  was  grief  in  many  hearts. 

It  was  early  the  next  morning,  when  Tom 
and  Jack  were  getting  ready  to  go  back  to  the 
ruins  in  the  Rue  Lafayette,  that,  as  they  left 
their  lodgings,  they  heard  in  the  air  above  them 
the  familiar  sounds  of  aeroplanes  in  flight,  and 
the  faint  popping  of  machine  guns,  to  which 
was  added  the  burst  of  shrapnel. 

"Look  I"  cried  Jack.  "It's  a  battle  in  the  air. 
The  Huns  are  making  another  raid.  Now  we'll 
see  how  they  bomb  the  city." 

But  it  did  not  turn  out  to  be  that  sort  of 
raid.  The  German  craft  were  flying  low,  appar- 
ently to  get  a  view  of  the  havoc  wrought  the 
day  before.  Possibly  photographs  were  being 
taken. 

But  the  French  aeroplanes  were  rtady  for  the 
foe,  and  at  once  arose  to  give  battle,  while  the 
anti-aircraft  guns  roared  out  a  stern  order  to 
retreat.  It  was  a  battle  above  the  city  and, 
more  than  once,  Tom  and  Jack  wished  they 
could  be  in  it. 

''We'll  have  to  get  back  to  our  hangars 
soon,"  mused  Tom,  as  they  watched  the  fight. 
"We  can't  be  slackers,  even  if  I  can't  find  my 
father,"  he  added  bravely. 

The  French  planes  were  too  much  for  the 


WHERE  IS  MR.  RAYMOND?        67 

Germans,  and  soon  drove  them  back  beyond 
the  Hun  lines,  though  perhaps  not  before  the 
enemy  aviators  had  made  the  observations  de- 
sired. 

"Well,  they  didn't  see  much,"  remarked 
Jack.  "As  far  as  any  real  damage  was  done  to 
Paris  it  doesn't  count,  from  a  military  stand- 
point." 

"No,  you're  right,"  agreed  Tom.  "Of  course 
they  have  killed  some  noncombatants,  but  that 
seems  to  be  the  Boche's  principal  form  of 
amusement.  As  for  getting  any  nearer  to  the 
capture  of  Paris  this  way,  he  might  as  well 
throw  beans  at  the  pyramids.  It's  probably 
done  for  the  moral,  or  immoral,  effect." 

And  this  seemed  to  be  the  view  taken  of  it 
by  the  Paris  and  London  papers.  The  method 
of  bombardment,  however,  remained  a  mystery, 
and  a  baffling  one.  This  was  a  point  the  mili- 
tary authorities  wished  to  clear  up.  To  that 
end  it  was  much  to  be  desired  that  fragments 
of  the  shell  should  be  found.  And  to  find  them, 
if  possible,  a  careful  search  was  made,  not  only 
in  the  ruins  of  the  Rue  Lafayette,  but  at  the 
other  two  places  where  the  explosions  had 
occurred. 

In  no  place,  however,  was  a  large  enough 
fragment  found  to  justify  any  conclusive 
theories,  and  the  Parisians  were  forced  to  wait 


68        WHERE  IS  MR.  RAYMOND? 

for  another  bombardment — rather  a  grim  and 
tense  waiting  it  was,  too. 

But  the  careful  search  of  the  Rue  Lafayette 
ruins  proved  one  thing.  The  body  of  Tom's 
father  was  not  among  them,  though  this  did 
not  make  it  certain  that  he  was  alive.  He  may 
have  been  totally  destroyed,  and  this  thought 
kept  Tom  from  being  able  to  free  his  mind  of 
anxiety.  He  dared  not  cable  any  news  home, 
and  all  he  could  do  was  to  keep  on  hoping. 
These  were  anxious  days  for  him  and  Jack. 

Their  leave  of  absence  had  been  for  a  week 
only,  but  under  the  circumstances,  and  as  it  was 
exceptionally  quiet  on  their  sector,  they  were 
allowed  to  remain  longer.  Tom  wanted  to 
make  a  more  thorough  search  for  his  father, 
and  the  police  and  military  authorities  helped 
him.  But  Mr.  Raymond  seemed  to  have  com- 
pletely disappeared.  There  was  no  trace  of  him 
since  the  agent  for  the  Rue  Lafayette  buildings 
had  seen  him  leave  his  room  just  prior  to  the 
falling  of  the  shell. 

Jack  inquired  about  the  man  he  suspected  of 
being  a  German  spy.  The  secret  service  men 
had  him  under  observation,  they  reported,  but, 
as  yet,  he  had  not  given  them  any  cause  to 
arrest  him.  They  were  waiting  and  watching. 

Meanwhile  active  preparations  were  under 
way,  not  only  to  discover  the  source  of  the 


WHERE  IS  MR.  RAYMOND?        69 

bombardment  of  Paris,  but  to  counteract  it. 
Extra  anti-aircraft  guns,  of  powerful  calibre, 
were  erected  in  many  places  about  the  city,  and 
more  airmen  were  summoned  to  the  defense. 

As  yet  there  had  been  no  resumption  of  the 
bombardment,  and  there  were  hopes  that  the 
German  machine,  whatever  it  was,  had  burst  or 
been  put  out  of  commission.  But  on  the  second 
day  of  the  second  week  of  the  boys'  stay  in 
Paris,  once  more  there  was  the  alarm  and  the 
warning  from  the  soldiers  and  police,  and  again 
came  that  explosion. 

The  bombardment  of  Paris  was  being  re- 
newed! 


CHAPTER  IX 

VARIOUS   THEORIES 

Two  things  were  at  once  apparent  to  Tom 
and  Jack  as  they  hurried  out  of  their  pension. 
One  was  that  the  people  of  Paris  were  not  seek- 
ing shelter  after  the  warnings  as  quickly  as 
they  had  done  at  first,  and  the  other  was  that 
there  was  evident  curiosity  on  all  sides  to  see 
just  what  damage  would  be  done,  and  from 
which  direction  it  would  come.  With  an  almost 
reckless  disregard  for  their  safety,  if  not  for 
their  lives,  the  Parisians  fairly  flocked  out  of 
doors  to  see  the  results  of  the  Huns'  bombard- 
ment. It  was  in  vain  that  the  police  and  mili- 
tary urged  them  to  seek  safety  in  cellars  or  the 
places  provided. 

This  time  only  one  shell  fell  near  enough  to 
Tom  and  Jack  to  make  the  explosion  heard, 
and  that  was  so  faint  as  to  indicate  that  it  was 
some  distance  off.  What  damage  had  been 
done  could  only  be  guessed  at. 

"But  we'll  find  out  where  it  is,  and  go  take 
a  look,"  said  Jack. 

"Maybe  it'll  hit  right  around  here  if  we  stay," 
suggested  his  chum. 

70 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  71 

"Well,  I'm  not  taking  that  chance,"  Jack 
went  on.  "Let's  find  out  where  it  landed  this 
time." 

This  they  could  do  through  their  acquaint- 
ance with  the  military  authority  oi  the  district 
where  they  were  then  staying.  A  telephonic 
report  was  at  once  received,  giving  the  quarter 
where  the  shell  had  landed.  It  had  fallen  in  one 
of  the  public  squares,  and  though  a  big  hole 
had  been  torn  in  the  ground  and  pavement, 
and  several  persons  killed  and  wounded,  no 
material  damage  had  been  done.  As  for  any 
military  effect  of  the  shell,  it  was  nil. 

The  firing  was  done  in  the  early  evening 
hours,  and  Tom  and  Jack  learned  that,  almost 
to  the  second,  the  shots  were  fifteen  minutes 
apart. 

There  was  one  theory  that  an  underground 
passage  had  been  made  in  some  manner  to 
within  a  comparatively  few  miles  of  Paris,  and 
from  that  point  an  immense  mortar  sent  up  the 
shells  in  a  long  trajectory. 

Another  theory  was  that  traitors  had  let  the 
Germans  through  the  French  lines  at  a  certain 
place,  so  they  could  get  near  enough  to  Paris 
to  bombard  it. 

And  of  course  the  gigantic  airship  theory  had 
its  adherents. 

But,  for  a  time  at  least,  no  one  would  admit 


72  VARIOUS  THEORIES 

the  possibility  of  a  gun  with  range  sufficient  to 
shoot  into  Paris  from  the  nearest  German  lines. 
The  range,  sixty-odd  miles,  seemed  too  great 
for  practical  belief,  however  nicely  it  might 
work  out  in  theory. 

"And  you  must  remember  that  the  gun,  if 
gun  it  is,  couldn't  be  in  the  very  first  German 
line,"  said  Tom,  who  had  studied  ordnance. 
"It  must  be  at  least  ten  miles  back,  to  allow  for 
sufficient  protection  from  the  French  guns, 
That  would  make  it  shoot  about  seventy-two 
miles,  and  I  don't  believe  any  gun  on  earth 
could  do  it!" 

"Neither  do  I,"  added  Jack.  "We've  got  to 
dope:  out  something  else.  But  this  isn't  finding 
your  father,  Tom." 

"I  know  it,  and  I  don't  mind  admitting  I'm 
clean  discouraged  about  him,  Jack.  If  he's  alive 
why  doesn't  he  send  me  some  word?  He  must 
know  where  I  am,  and,  even  if  he  doesn't  know 
I'm  in  Paris,  they  would  forward  any  mes- 
sage he  might  send  to  our  aeroplane  head- 
quarters." 

"That's  right.  But  what  are  you  going  to  do 
about  it?" 

"I  hardly  know.  He  may  still  be  in  Paris, 
but  it's  such  a  big  city  that  it's  hard  to  find  him. 
Then,  too,  I'm  thinking  of  something  else." 

"What's  that,  Tom?" 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  73 

"Well,  dad  may  not  want  us  to  know  where 
he  is." 

"Why  in  the  world  would  he  want  such  a 
thing  as  that  ?" 

"Well,  he  might  be  followed,  or  bothered  by 
spies.  Perhaps  he  has  come  over  to  do  some 
special  work  for  the  French  or  English  army 
people.  Maybe  a  spy  was  after  him  just  before 
the  big  German  gun  wrecked  his  Rue  Lafayette 
house.  He  may  have  considered  this  a  good 
chance  to  play  dead,  and  that's  why  he  doesn't 
send  some  word  to  me." 

"That's  a  good  theory.  But  it  isn't  very 
comforting." 

"No,  but  there  isn't  much  comfort  in  war 
times.  We've  got  to  make  the  best  of  it." 

"I  guess  you're  right,  Tom.  Now  do  you 
want  to  go  look  at  the  latest  work  of  the  Hun?" 

"Might  as  well.  The  bombardment  seems 
over  for  the  night." 

"I  wonder  why  it  is  they  don't  fire  after 
dark." 

"Probably  afraid  of  giving  the  location  of 
their  cannon  away  by  the  flashes.  They'd  be 
seen  at  night ;  but  during  the  day,  if  they  used 
smokeless  powder,  or  a  smoke  screen  in  case 
they  can't  get  smokeless  powder  for  such  a  big 
gun,  it  would  be  hard  to  locate  the  place  where 


74  VARIOUS  THEORIES 

the  shots  come  from.  So  we're  comparatively 
safe  after  dark,  it  seems." 

Later  this  was  not  to  prove  to  be  the  case, 
but  it  was  when  Tom  spoke. 

The  boys  went  to  the  section  of  the  city  in 
which  the  last  shells  had  fallen.  While  com- 
paratively little  damage  had  been  done,  a  num- 
ber of  persons  had  been  killed  and  injured, 
children  among  them.  Some  fragments  of  the 
shells  were  picked  up,  but  not  enough  to  make 
certain  any  particular  theory  in  regard  to  the 
gun. 

"But  if  it's  a  gun,  where  could  it  be  placed?" 
queried  Tom  of  an  officer.  "The  Germans 
haven't  broken  through,  have  they?" 

The  French  officer  shook  his  head. 

"No.  And  please  God  they  will  never  get 
through,"  he  said.  "But  there  is  a  gun  some- 
where, I  am  sure  of  that." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  within  ten  or  fifteen 
miles  of  Paris?"  Jack  wanted  to  know. 

"I  can  not  be  sure.  It  is  true  there  may  have 
been  traitors.  We  have  them  to  contend  with 
a*>  well  as  spies.  But  our  line  is  intact,  and  at 
no  point  along  it,  near  enough  to  it  to  fire  into 
Paris  from  an  ordinary  gun,  can  the  Germans 
be  found." 

"Then  it  must  be  an  extraordinary  gun," 
suggested  Jack. 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  75 

"It  may  well  be — perhaps  it  is.  Yet,  as  I 
said,  there  may  have  been  traitors.  There  may 
be  a  gun  concealed  somewhere  closer  to  Paris 
than  we  dream.  But  we  shall  find  it,  messieurs ! 
Who  knows?  Perhaps  you  may  be  the  very 
ones  yourselves  to  locate  it,  for  we  are  depend- 
ing on  you  soldiers  of  the  air." 

And  it  was  not  long  before  this  talk  came 
back  to  Tom  and  Jack  with  impressive  recollec- 
tion. 

And  meanwhile  the  bombardment  of  Paris 
went  on,  usually  during  the  late  afternoon  or 
early  morning  hours — never  at  night,  as  yet. 

Yet  with  all  the  frightfulness  of  which  the 
unscrupulous  Huns  were  capable,  it  was  im- 
possible to  dampen  for  long  the  spirits  of  the 
French.  Soon  they  grew  almost  to  disregard 
the  falling  shells  from  the  hidden  German  gun. 
Of  course  there  were  buildings  destroyed,  and 
lives  were  lost,  while  many  were  frightfully 
maimed.  But  if  Germany  depended  on  this,  as 
she  seemed  to,  to  strike  terror  to  the  hearts  of 
the  brave  Frenchmen  the  while  a  great  offen- 
sive was  going  on  along  the  western  front,  it 
failed.  For  the  people  of  Paris  did  not  allow 
themselves  to  be  disheartened,  any  more  than 
the  people  of  London  did  when  the  Zeppelins 
raided  them. 

Indeed  one  Paris  paper  even  managed  to  ex- 


76  VARIOUS  THEORIES 

tract  some  humor  out  of  the  grim  situation. 
For  one  day,  following  the  bombardment,  a 
journal  appeared  with  "scare"  headlines,  telling 
about  eleven  "lives"  being  lost.  But  when  one 
read  the  account  it  was  discovered  that  the  lives 
were  those  of  chickens. 

And  this  actually  happened.  A  shell  fell  on 
the  outlying  section  and  blew  up  a  henhouse, 
killing  nearly  a  dozen  fowls  and  blowing  a  big 
hole  in  the  ground. 

There  were  other  occasions,  too,  when  the 
seemingly  superhuman  bombardment  was  not 
worth  the  proverbial  candle.  For  the  shells  fell 
in  sections  where  no  damage  was  done,  and 
where  no  lives  paid  the  toll.  Once  a  shell  went 
through  a  house,  passing  close  to  an  aged 
woman,  but  not  hurting  her,  to  explode  harm- 
lessly in  a  field  near  by. 

And  it  was  with  such  accounts  as  these  that 
the  Paris  papers  kept  up  the  spirits  of  the  in- 
habitants. Meanwhile  the  Germans  kept  firing 
away  at  quarter-hour  intervals,  when  the  gun 
was  in  action. 

"I  wonder  if  there  is  any  chance  of  us  getting 
in  at  the  game?"  questioned  Jack  of  Tom  one 
night. 

"I  shouldn't  be  surprised.  As  that  officer 
said,  they'll  have  to  depend  on  the  aircraft  to 
locate  the  gun,  I'm  thinking." 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  77 

"And  you  think  we  have  a  chance?" 

"I  don't  see  why  not,"  replied  Tom.  "We've 
been  off  duty  long  enough.  I'd  like  to  get 
back  behind  the  propeller  again,  and  with  a 
drum  or  two  of  bullets  to  use  in  case  we  sight 
a  Hun  plane.  Let's  go  and  send  word  to  our 
captain  that  we've  had  enough  of  leave,  and 
want  to  go  out  again." 

"All  right.    But  what  about  your  father?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  what  to  say,"  answered 
Tom.  "I'm  about  convinced  that  he  wasn't 
killed,  or  even  hurt,  in  any  of  the  bombard- 
ments of  Paris.  But  where  he  is  I  don't  know. 
I  guess,  as  a  matter  of  duty  to  France,  I'll  have 
to  let  my  private  affairs  go  and — " 

At  that  instant  there  sounded  an  explosion 
the  character  of  which  the  two  boys  well  knew 
by  this  time. 

"The  big  gun  again!"  cried  Jack. 

"Yes,  and  they're  firing  after  dark!"  added 
Tom.  "This  may  be  just  the  chance  the  airmen 
have  been  waiting  for — to  locate  the  piece  by 
the  flashes.  Come  on  out  and  see  what's 
doing!"  . 

Together  they  rushed  from  their  room. 


CHAPTER  X 
THE  "DUD" 

MUCH  the  same  sort  of  scene  was  going  on 
in  the  streets  of  Paris  as  Tom  and  Jack  had 
witnessed  when  first  the  populace  realized  that 
they  were  under  fire  from  a  myterious  German 
cannon.  There  was  the  initial  alarm — the  warn- 
ings sounded  by  the  police  and  soldiers,  warn- 
ings which  were  different  from  those  indicating 
a  Zeppelin  or  aircraft  raid,  and  then  the  hurry 
for  cover. 

But  it  was  noticeable  that  not  so  many  of  the 
people  rushed  for  a  secure  hiding  place  as  had 
done  so  at  first. 

"They're  not  so  afraid  of  the  big  gun  as  they 
were,"  observed  Jack,  as  he  hurried  along  with 
his  chum. 

"No.  Though  it's  just  as  well  to  be  a  bit 
cautious,  I  think.  The  people  of  Paris  are 
beginning  to  lose  fear  because  they  see  that  the 
German  shells  don't  do  as  much  damage  as 
might  be  expected." 

"You're  right  there,  Tom,"  said  Jack.  "The 
shells  are  rather  small,  to  judge  by  the  damage 
they  do.  I  wonder  why  that  is  ?" 

78 


THE  "DUD"  79 

"Probably  their  gun,  or  guns,  can't  fire  any 
larger  ones  such  a  long  distance,  or  else  their 
airships  can't  carry  'em  up  above  the  clouds  to 
drop  on  the  city." 

"Then  you  still  hold  to  the  airship  theory?" 

"Well,  Jack,  I  haven't  altogether  given  it  up. 
I'm  open  to  conviction,  as  it  were.  Of  course 
I  know,  in  theory,  a  gun  can  be  made  that  will 
shoot  a  hundred  miles,  if  necessary,  but  the 
cost  of  it,  the  cost  of  the  charge  and  the  work 
of  loading  it,  as  well  as  the  enormous  task  of 
making  a  carriage  or  an  emplacement  to  with- 
stand the  terrific  recoil,  makes  such  a  gun  a 
military  white  elephant.  In  other  words  it  isn't 
worth  the  trouble  it  would  take — the  amount 
of  damage  inflicted  on  the  enemy  wouldn't 
make  it  worth  while." 

"I  guess  you're  right,  Tom.  And  yet  such  a 
gun  would  make  a  big  scare." 

"Yes,  and  that's  what  the  Germans  are  de- 
pending on,  more  than  anything  else." 

"But  still  don't  you  think  the  French  will 
have  to  do  something  toward  silencing  the 
gun?" 

"Indeed  I  do!  And  I  haven't  a  doubt  but 
the  French  command  is  working  night  and  day 
to  devise  some  plan  whereby  the  gun  can  be 
silenced." 

"There  go  the  aviators  now,  out  to  try  to 


8o  THE  "DUD" 

find  the  big  cannon/'  observed  Jack,  as  he 
gazed  aloft. 

Soaring  over  Paris,  having  hastened  to  take 
the  air  when  the  signal  was  given,  were  a  num- 
ber of  planes,  their  red,  white  and  blue  lights 
showing  dimly  against  the  black  sky.  They 
were  off  to  try  to  place  the  big  gun,  if  such  it 
was,  or  discover  whether  or  not  some  Hun 
plane  was  hovering  over  the  city,  dropping  the 
bombs. 

As  Jack  and  Tom  hastened  on,  in  the  wake 
of  the  crowd,  which  was  hurrying  toward  the 
place  where  the  latest  shells  had  fallen,  again 
came  a  distant  explosion,  showing  that  the  gun 
had  been  fired  again. 

"Fifteen-minute  interval,"  announced  Tom, 
looking  at  his  watch.  "They're  keeping  strictly 
to  schedule." 

"Night  firing  is  new  for  the  big  gun,"  said 
Jack.  "I  do  hope  they'll  be  able  to  locate  the 
cannon  by  the  flashes." 

"It  isn't  going  to  be  easy,"  asserted  Tom. 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  you  can  make  up  your  mind  if  the 
Germans  were  afraid  to  fire  the  piece  at  night 
at  first  for  fear  of  being  discovered,  and  if  now 
they  are  firing  after  dark,  they  have  some 
means  of  camouflaging  the  flash.  In  other 
words  they  have  it  hidden  in  some  way." 


THE  "DUD"  81 

"Well,  I  suppose  you're  right.  But  say, 
Tom,  old  man !  what  wouldn't  I  give  to  be  able 
to  be  up  in  the  air  with  those  boys  now?"  and 
Jack  motioned  to  the  scouts  who  were  flitting 
around  in  the  dark  clouds,  seeking  for  that 
which  menaced  the  chief  city  of  the  French 
nation. 

"I'd  like  to  be  there  myself/'  said  T*om. 
"And  if  this  keeps  up  much  longer  I'm  going 
to  ask  permission  for  us  to  go  up  and  see  what 
we  can  do." 

"Think  they'll  let  us?" 

"Well,  they  can't  any  more  than  turn  us 
down.  And  we've  got  to  get  at  it  in  a  hurry, 
too,  or  we'll  have  to  report  back  at  our  regular 
station.  We  aren't  doing  anything  here,  except 
sit  around." 

"No,  we  must  get  busy,  that's  a  fact,"  said 
Jack.  "It's  about  time  we  downed  some  Hun 
scout,  or  broke  up  one  of  their  'circus'  attacks. 
I've  almost  forgotten  how  a  joy  stick  feels." 

A  "joy  stick"  is  a  contrivance  on  an  aeroplane 
by  the  manipulation  of  which  the  plane  is  held 
on  a  level  keel.  If  the  joy  stick  control  is 
released,  either  by  accident  (say  when  the  pilot 
is  wounded  in  a  fight),  or  purposely,  the  plane 
at  once  begins  to  climb,  taking  its  passenger 
out  of  danger. 

Once  the  joy  stick  is  released  it  gradually 


82  THE  "DUD" 

comes  back  toward  the  pilot.  The  machine 
climbs  until  the  angle  formed  is  too  great  for 
it  to  continue,  or  for  the  motor  to  pull  it.  Then 
it  may  stop  for  an  instant  when  the  motor, 
being  heavier,  pulls  the  plane  over  and  there 
begins  the  terrible  "nose  spinning  dive,"  from 
which  there  is  no  escape  unless  the  pilot  gets 
control  of  his  machine  again,  or  manages  to 
reach  the  joy  stick. 

"Well,  we'll  have  to  get  in  the  game  again 
soon,"  said  Tom.  "But  what  do  you  say  to 
taking  a  taxi?  This  explosion  is  farther  than 
I  thought." 

Jack  agreed,  and  they  were  soon  at  the  place 
where  the  last  German  shell  had  fallen — that  is 
as  near  as  the  police  would  permit. 

A  house  had  been  struck,  and  several  persons, 
two  of  them  children,  killed.  But,  as  before, 
the  military  damage  done  was  nothing.  The 
Germans  might  be  spreading  their  gospel  of 
fear,  but  they  were  not  advancing  their  army 
that  way. 

As  Tom  and  Jack  stood  near  the  place  where 
a  hole  had  been  blown  through  the  house, 
another  explosion,  farther  off,  was  heard,  and 
there  was  a  momentary  flare  in  the  sky  that  told 
of  the  arrival  of  another  shell. 

For  a  few  seconds  there  was  something  like 
a  panic,  and  then  a  voice  struck  up  the  "Marseil- 


THE  "DUD"  83 

laise,"  and  the  crowd  joined  in.  It  was  their 
defiance  to  the  savage  Hun. 

A  few  shots  were  fired  by  the  Germans,  but 
none  of  them  did  much  damage,  and  then,  as 
though  operating  on  a  schedule  which  must 
not,  under  any  circumstances,  be  changed,  the 
firing  ceased,  and  the  crowds  once  more  filled 
the  streets,  for  it  was  yet  early  in  the  night. 

The  next  morning  the  boys  went  to  report, 
as  they  did  each  day,  expecting  that  they  might 
be  called  back  to  duty.  They  also  found,  after 
being  told  that  their  leave  was  still  in  effect, 
that  some  of  the  aviators  who  had  gone  up  the 
night  before,  to  try  to  locate  the  German  gun, 
were  on  hand. 

"Now  we  can  ask  them  what  they  saw," 
suggested  Jack. 

"That's  what  we  will,"  assented  Tom. 

But  the  airmen  had  nothing  to  report.  They 
had  ascended  high  in  search  of  a  hostile  craft 
carrying  a  big  gun,  but  had  seen  none. 

They  had  journeyed  far  over  the  German 
lines,  hoping  to  discover  the  emplacement  of 
the  gun,  if  a  long  range  cannon  was  being  used. 
But  they  saw  nothing. 

"Not  even  flashes  of  fire?"  asked  Tom. 

"Oh,  yes,  we  saw  those,"  an  aviator  said. 
*T8at  there  were  so  many  of  them,  and  in  so 
many  and  such  widely  scattered  places,  that  we 


84  THE  "DUD" 

could  not  tell  which  one  to  bomb.  We  did 
manage  to  hit  some,  though  with  what  effect 
we  could  not  tell." 

"Then  the  German  gun  is  still  a  mystery," 
observed  Tom. 

"It  is.  But  we  shall  discover  it  soon.  We 
will  never  rest  until  we  do !" 

So  more  and  new  and  different  theories  con- 
tinued to  be  put  forth  regarding  the  big 
cannon,  if  such  it  was.  Ordnance  experts  wrote 
articles,  alike  in  London,  Paris,  and  New  York, 
explaining  that  it  was  possible  for  a  cannon  to 
be  within  the  German  lines  and  still  send  a  shell 
into  the  French  capital.  But  few  believed  that 
it  was  feasible.  The  general  opinion  was  that 
the  gun  was  of  comparative  short  range,  and 
was  hidden  much  nearer  Paris  than  the  sixty  or 
seventy-odd  miles  away,  beyond  which  stretched 
the  German  line  of  trenches. 

Meanwhile  Tom,  though  making  careful  in- 
quiries, had  learned  nothing  of  his  father.  He 
did  not  feel  it  would  be  wise  to  cable  back 
home,  and  ask  what  the  news  was  there. 

"It  might  spoil  dad's  plans  if  I  did  that,"  said 
Tom  to  his  chum,  "and  it  would  worry  the 
folks  in  Bridgeton  to  know  that  I  haven't  yet 
seen  him  in  France.  No,  I'll  just  have  to  wait." 

And  wait  Tom  did,  though  there  is  no  harder 
task  in  all  the  world. 


THE  "DUD"  85 

It  was  one  morning-,  after  a  night  bombard- 
ment on  the  part  of  the  Germans,  that  Jack, 
who  had  been  out  for  a  morning  paper,  came 
rushing  into  the  room  where  Tom  was  just 
awakening. 

"Great  news,  old  man!  Great!"  cried  Jack, 
waving  the  paper  about  his  head. 

"You  mean  about  a  victory?"  asked  Tom. 

"No,  not  exactly,  though  it  may  lead  to  that. 
And  it  isn't  any  news  about  your  father,  I'm 
sorry  to  say.  It's  about  the  German  gun.  A 
'dud'  fell  last  night." 

"A  'dud'  ?"  repeated  Tom,  hardly  sensing  what 
Jack  said. 

"Yes,  you  know !  A  shell  that  didn't  explode. 
Now  they  have  a  whole  one  to  examine,  and 
they  can  find  out  what  sort  of  gun  shot  it.  This 
paper  tells  all  about  it.  Come  on!  Let's  go 
for  a  look  at  the  'dud' !" 


CHAPTER  XI 

A  MONSTER   CANNON 

TOM,  dressing  hastily,  read  the  account  in 
the  Paris  paper  of  the  fall,  in  an  outlying  sec- 
tion of  the  city,  of  one  of  the  German  shells 
that  failed  to  explode.  It  was  being  examined 
by  the  military  authorities,  it  was  stated,  with 
a  view  to  finding  out  what  sort  of  gun  fired  it, 
so  that  measures  might  be  taken  to  blow  up  the 
piece  or  render  it  useless  to  the  enemy. 

"That  sounds  good  to  me,"  said  Tom,  as 
they  made  a  hasty  breakfast.  "This  is  getting 
down  to  a  scientific  basis.  An  unexploded  shell 
ought  to  give  'em  a  line  on  the  kind  of  gun  that 
fired  it." 

"The  only  trouble,"  said  Jack,  "is  that  the 
shell  may  go  off  when  they  are  examining  it." 

"Oh,  trust  the  French  ordnance  experts  not 
to  let  a  thing  like  that  happen,"  said  Tom. 
"Now  let's  go  to  it." 

It  was  fortunate  that  Tom  and  Jack  wore  the 
uniforms  that  had  so  endeared  them  to  France, 
or  they  might  have  had  difficulty  in  gaining 
admittance  to  the  bureau  where  the  unexploded 

86 


A  MONSTER  CANNON  87 

shell  was  under  process  of  investigation.  But 
when  they  first  applied,  their  request  was  re- 
ferred to  a  grizzled  veteran  who  smiled  kindly 
at  them,  patted  them  on  the  shoulders,  called 
them  the  saviors  of  France,  and  ushered  them 
into  the  ordnance  department,  where  special 
deputies  were  in  conference. 

"Yes,  we  have  one  of  the  Boche  shells,"  said 
an  officer,  who  spoke  English  fluently,  for  which 
Tom  and  Jack  were  glad.  They  could  speak 
and  understand  French,  but  in  a  case  like  this, 
where  they  wanted  a  detailed  and  scientific  ex- 
planation, their  own  tongue  would  better  serve 
them 

"And  can  you  tell  from  what  sort  of  gun  it 
comes  ?"  asked  Tom. 

"It  was  fired  from  a  monster  cannon,"  was 
the  answer.  "That  is  a  cannon  not  so  much  a 
monster  in  bore,  as  in  length  and  in  its  power 
to  impel  a  missile  nearly  eighty  miles." 

"Can  it  be  done?"  asked  Jack. 

"It  has  been  done!"  exclaimed  Major  de 
Trouville,  the  officer  who  was  detailed  to  talk 
to  the  boys  "It  has  been  done.  That  is  the 
gun  that  has  been  bombarding  Paris." 

"But,  from  a  military  standpoint,"  began 
Tom,  "is  it—" 

"It  is  utterly  useless,"  was  the  quick  answer. 
"Come,  I  will  show  you  the  shell." 


88  A  MONSTER  CANNON 

He  led  them  to  an  apartment  set  aside  for 
the  testing  of  explosives  and  working-  out  ord- 
nance problems,  and  there  on  a  table,  around 
which  sat  many  prominent  French  officials,  was 
the  German  shell — the  "dud,"  as  Jack  had 
called  it. 

"The  charge  has  been  drawn,"  explained 
Major  de  Trouville,  "so  there  is  no  danger. 
And  we  have  determined  that  the  manner  in 
which  shots  reach  Paris  from  a  distance  of 
from  seventy  to  eighty  miles  is  by  the  use  of  a 
sub-calibre  missile." 

"A  sub-calibre  ?"  murmured  Tom. 

"Yes.  You  know,  in  general,  that  the  more 
powder  you  use,  and  the  larger  the  surface  of 
the  missile  which  receives  it,  the  greater  dis- 
tance it  can  be  thrown,  providing  your  angle 
of  elevation  is  proper." 

The  boys  understood  this  much,  in  theory  at 
least. 

"Well,"  went  on  the  major,  "while  that  is 
true,  there  is  a  limit  to  it.  That  is  to  say  you 
could  go  on  using  powder  up  to  hundreds  of 
pounds  in  your  cannon,  but  when  you  get  to  a 
certain  point  you  have  to  so  increase  the  length 
of  the  gun,  and  the  size  of  the  breech  to  make 
it  withstand  the  terrific  pressure  of  gases,  that 
it  is  impracticable  to  go  any  further.  So,  also, 
in  the  case  of  the  shell.  If  you  make  it  too 


A  MONSTER  CANNON  89 

large,  so  as  to  get  a  big  surface  area  for  the 
gase«=  of  the  burning  powder  to  act  upon,  you 
get  your  shell  too  heavy  to  handle. 

"Now  of  course  the  lighter  a  missile  is,  the 
farther  it  will  go,  in  comparison  to  a  heavy  one 
with  the  same  force  behind  it.  But  you  can 
not  get  lightness  and  sufficient  resistance  to 
pressure  without  size,  and  here  is  where  the 
sub-calibre  comes  in." 

"In  other  words  the  Germans  have  been 
firing  a  shell  within  a  shell,"  broke  in  another 
officer. 

"Exactly,"  said  Major  de  Trouville.  "The 
Germans  have  evolved  a  big  gun,  that  is  big 
as  regards  length,  to  enable  the  missile  they  fire 
from  it  to  gain  enough  impulse  from  the 
powder.  But  the  missile  would  be  too  large  to 
travel  all  the  way  to  Paris.  So  they  use  two. 
The  inner  one  is  the  one  that  really  gets  here 
and  explodes." 

"What  becomes  of  the  outer?"  asked  Jack. 

"It  is  a  sort  of  container,  or  collar,  and  falls 
off  soon  after  the  shell  leaves  tht  big  gun.  If 
you  will  imagine  a  sort  of  bomb  shell  being 
enclosed  in  an  iron  case,  the  whole  being  put 
in  a  gun  and  fired,  you  will  better  get  the  idea. 
The  outer  case  is  made  in  two  or  more  pieces, 
and  soon  after  it  is  shot  out  it  falls  away,  leav- 
ing the  smaller  missile  to  travel  on.  But  here 


90  A  MONSTER  CANNON 

is  where  the  cunning  of  the  invention  comes  hi. 
The  smaller  missile  has  all  the  impetus  given 
the  larger  one,  but  without  its  weight.  In  con- 
sequence it  can  travel  through  eighty  miles  of 
atmosphere,  finally  reaching  Paris,  where  it 
explodes." 

"Wonderful!"  exclaimed  Jack. 

"And  yet  it  is  merely  the  adaptation  of  an 
old  theory,"  went  on  the  major.  "We  have 
known  of  the  sub-calibre  theory  for  years,  but 
it  is  not  practicable.  So  we  did  not  try  it.  The 
cost  is  too  great  for  the  amount  of  military 
damage  done.  And  this  shell,  as  you  will  see, 
is  composed  of  two  parts,  each  with  a  separate 
explosive  chamber,  each  containing,  as  we  dis- 
covered, a  different  sort  of  explosive.  In  this 
way  if  one  did  not  go  off,  the  other  would,  and 
so  set  off  the  one  that  failed.  It  is  very  clever, 
but  we  shall  be  more  clever." 

"That's  right !"  chimed  in  a  chorus  of  fellow 
officers. 

"We'll  find  the  gun  and  destroy  it — or  all  of 
them  if  they  have  more  than  one,  as  they  prob- 
ably have,"  went  on  the  major. 

He  showed  the  boys  where  the  shell  had 
chambers  for  the  time  fuses  to  work,  much  as 
in  a  shrapnel  shell,  which  can  be  set  to  go  off 
so  many  minutes  or  so  many  seconds  after  it 
reaches  its  objective  point. 


A  MONSTER  CANNON  91 

"And  so  the  great  question  is  settled  by  the 
failure  of  this  shell  to  explode,"  went  on  the 
major.  "As  soon  as  we  saw  it,  and  noted  the 
absence  of  the  rifling  groove  marks,  we  knew  it 
must  have  been  a  sub-calibre  matter.  The  rest 
was  easy  to  figure  out. 

"Some  of  us  thought  there  might  be  a  big 
airship,  stationed  high  above  the  clouds,  drop- 
ping bombs.  Others  inclined  to  the  theory  of  a 
double  shell;  that  is,  after  one  had  been  fired 
from  the  cannon  it  would  travel,  say,  half  way 
and  then  explode  a  charge  which  would  impel 
another  shell  toward  Paris.  A  sort  of  cannon 
within  a  cannon,  so  to  speak.  But  this  is  not  so. 
Nor  did  the  theory  of  a  shell  with  a  sort  of 
propeller  device,  like  that  of  a  torpedo,  prove 
to  be  right.  It  is  much  simpler  —  just  sub- 
calibre  work." 

"And  what  is  going  to  be  done  about  it?" 
asked  Tom.  "I  mean  how  can  the  monster  can- 
non be  silenced?" 

"Ah,  that  is  a  matter  we  are  taking  up  now," 
was  the  answer  of  Major  de  Trouville.  "I  fancy 
we  shall  have  to  call  on  you  boys  for  a  solution 
of  that  problem." 

"On  us?"  exclaimed  Jack. 

"Well,  I  mean  on  the  aircraft  service.  It  will 
be  their  task  to  search  out  this  great  German 
cannon  for  us,  to  enable  our  gunners  to  destroy 


92  'A  MONSTER  CANNON 

it.  Or  it  may  be  that  it  will  have  to  be  bombed 
from  an  aeroplane." 

"That's  the  task  I'd  like  all  right!"  cried 
Tom,  with  shining  eyes. 

"Same  here !"  echoed  Jack.  "Do  you  suppose 
we'll  get  a  chance?"  he  asked  eagerly. 

"You  may,"  was  the  reply.  "It  may  take  all 
the  resources  of  our  airmen  to  destroy  this  terror 
of  the  Germans.  But  it  will  be  done,  never  fear !" 

"Vive  la  France!"  cried  his  companions,  and 
there  was  a  cheer  in  which  Tom  and  Jack  joined. 

And  so  a  part  of  the  secret  was  discovered. 
It  was  a  monster  cannon  that  was  devastating 
Paris.  A  great  gun,  the  construction  of  which 
could  only  be  guessed  at.  But  it  must  be  de- 
stroyed! That  was  certain! 


CHAPTER  XII 

FOR    PERILOUS   SERVICE 

TOM  and  Jack  spent  some  little  time  looking 
at  the  strange  German  shell.  It  was  of  peculiar 
construction,  arranged  so  that  the  two  explosive 
charges  would  detonate  together  or  separately, 
according  as  the  mechanism  was  set. 

But  in  this  case  it  had  failed  to  work,  and  the 
shell,  falling  in  a  bed  of  soft  sand,  near  some 
new  buildings  which  were  going  up,  had  not 
been  fired  by  concussion,  as  might  have 
happened, 

"And  it  was  just  French  luck  that  it  didn't 
go  off,"  observed  Jack. 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Tom.  "If  they  hadn't 
had  this  whole  shell  to  examine  they  wouldn't 
know  about  the  big  gun." 

So  all  the  theories,  fantastic  enough  some  of 
them,  about  great  airships  hovering  over  the 
beautiful  city,  and  dropping  bombs  from  a  great 
height,  were  practically  disproved. 

"Well,  now  that  you  have  decided  it  is  a  big 
German  gun,  the  next  question  is,  where  is  it 
and  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?"  ob- 

93 


94          FOR  PERILOUS  SERVICE 

served  Tom,  for  he  and  Jack  had  been  made  so 
much  of  by  the  French  officers  that  they  felt 
quite  at  home,  so  to  speak. 

"Ah,  messieurs,  that  is  the  question,"  declared 
Major  de  Trouville.  "First  to  find  the  gun,  and 
then  to  destroy  it.  The  first  we  can  do  with 
some  degree  of  accuracy." 

"Hov/?"  asked  Tom. 

The  major  went  to  a  large  map  hanging  on 
the  wall  of  the  room.  It  showed  the  country 
around  Paris  and  the  various  lines  as  they  had 
been  moved  to  and  fro  along  the  Western 
front,  according  as  the  Germans  advanced  or  re- 
treated. 

"You  will  observe,"  said  the  major,  "that  by 
describing  an  arc,  with  Paris  as  the  center  of 
the  circle,  and  a  radius  of  about  seventy-five 
miles,  you  will  include  a  small  sector  of  the 
German  trenches.  Roughly  speaking  this  arc 
will  extend  from  about  Hamegicourt  to  Cond6, 
both  within  the  German  lines,  I  am  sorry  to 
say.  Now  then,  somewhere  in  this  arc,  or  per- 
haps back  of  it,  the  German  gun  is  placed. 
Anywhere  else  where  it  would  be  possible  for 
such  a  monster  engine  of  war  to  be  erected, 
would  bring  it  too  close  to  our  batteries. 

"So  that  gives  us  the  comparative  location 
of  the  gun,"  went  on  the  French  officer.  "But 
the  next  question  is  not  so  easy  to  settle  — 


FOR  PERILOUS  SERVICE  95 

how  to  get  rid  of  it.  As  I  said,  I  think  we  shall 
have  to  depend  on  you  airmen." 

"Well,  we're  for  the  job!"  exclaimed  Tom. 

"I  know  you  are.  And  it  may  fall  to  you,  or 
to  your  friends.  I  will  talk  of  that  later." 

"Have  you  been  able  to  get  any  idea  of  the 
kind  of  gun  it  is,  or  why  it  fires  at  fifteen  minute 
intervals?"  asked  Jack. 

"We  have  been  able  to  get  no  really  reliable 
information  save  that  which  we  deduce  by  our 
observations  of  this  shell  and  from  what  we 
know  of  the  location  of  our  own  and  the 
German  lines,"  the  Major  went  on.  "Up  to  now 
our  airmen  have  not  been  able  to  penetrate  far 
enough  without  being  attacked,  and  such  few 
as  did  get  well  over  toward  the  Rhine  could 
make  out  nothing.  I  have  no  doubt  the  gun  is 
well  camouflaged." 

"And  is  it  true  that  it  doesn't  fire  at  night 
because  the  Germans  are  afraid  the  flashes  will 
be  seen?"  asked  Tom. 

"That  may  have  been  the  reason  at  first,  but 
they  have  fired  at  night,  of  late,  so  they  must 
have  some  way  of  concealing  the  flashes,  or 
perhaps  setting  off  other  flashes  at  the  same 
time  so  as  to  confuse  our  scouts." 

"It's  going  to  be  some  job,"  murmured  Jack. 

"You  said  something,"  agreed  his  chum. 

They  remained  talking  a  little  longer,   and 


96          FOR  PERILOUS  SERVICE 

some  of  the  officers  who  knew  the  reason  for 
Tom's  visit  to  Paris,  expressed  regret  that  he 
had  no  information  as  yet  about  his  father. 

"But  take  heart,"  one  told  him.  "He  is  not 
dead,  or  we  should  have  heard  of  it.  Of  course 
he  may  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the 
Germans,  and  then  we  would  not  know  for  some 
time." 

"He  may  have  been  caught,"  agreed  Tom. 
"While  Tuessig  is  out  of  the  game  on  account 
of  his  injuries,  he  may  be  able  to  direct  Potz- 
feldt,  and  that  scoundrel  would  have  good 
reason  for  trying  to  get  revenge  on  us." 

"Ah,  yes,  I  heard  about  your  rescue  of  the 
young  lady  and  her  mother,"  said  the  major. 
"It  was  a  brave  deed." 

"Oh,  any  one  could  have  done  it,"  said  Tom, 
modestly. 

"And  have  you  seen  them  since  they  came  to 
Paris?"  the  major  proceeded. 

"No,  but  I  wish  we  could  find  them!"  burst 
out  Jack,  and  then  he  blushed  at  his  impetuos- 
ity, while  Tom  murmured  something  about 
"Bessie,"  and  Jack  promptly  told  him  to  hold 
his  tongue. 

"Perhaps  you  may  meet  them  sooner  than 
you  expect,"  went  on  the  French  officer. 

"Now  I  wonder  what  he  could  have  meant 
by  that  ?"  asked  Jack,  as  he  and  his  chum  went 


FOR  PERILOUS  SERVICE  97 

out,  after  a  final  look  at  the  German  shell. 
"Does  he  know  where  they  are?" 

"It  wouldn't  be  surprising,  seeing  that  Mrs. 
Gleason  is  probably  in  Red  Cross  work,  and 
Bessie  may  be  helping  her.  We  should  have 
looked  them  up  before,"  went  on  Tom.  "But 
what  with  searching  for  my  father,  and  the  ex- 
citement about  the  bombardment,  I  really 
forgot  all  about  them." 

Jack  did  not  say  whether  he  had  or  not,  the 
chances  being  that  he  had,  more  than  once, 
thought  of  Bessie  Gleason. 

During  the  next  two  days  the  monster 
cannon  continued  to  shoot  shells  at  intervals 
into  Paris.  Some  did  considerable  damage,  as 
any  shell  would  do  in  a  great  city,  and  many 
unfortunates  were  killed.  But  there  was  no 
reign  of  terror  such  as,  undoubtedly,  the  Boches 
hoped  to  create.  Paris  remained  calm,  and 
there  were  even  jokes  made  about  the  cannon. 
It  was  called  a  "Bertha"  and  other  names,  the 
former  referring  to  Bertha  Krupp,  one  of  the 
owners  of  the  great  German  ordnance  works. 

Word  was  given  out  that  the  French  gunners 
on  the  front  were  trying  to  reach  the  big  gun 
with  their  missiles.  But  as  they  were  firing 
blindly  it  could  not  be  said  what  havoc  had 
been  wrought. 

"But,  sooner  or  later,  we'll  get  the  range,  and 


98          FOR  PERILOUS  SERVICE 

get  within  striking  distance,"  said  one  of  the 
French  officers.  "Then  we'll  show  them  a  trick 
or  two." 

"Have  the  aviators  done  anything  toward 
trying  to  find  the  gun?"  asked  Tom.  "I  mean 
anything  more." 

"We  are  perfecting  our  plans  for  the  flying 
corps,"  was  the  answer.  "Perhaps  you  shall 
know  more  in  a  few  days." 

"Well,  I  hope  we'll  be  here  when  the  fun 
begins,"  said  Tom,  grimly.  "We've  got  another 
extension  of  leave,  and  I'm  going  to  ask  the 
police  now,  to  co-operate  with  the  military  in 
seeking  my  father." 

"I  think  that  will  be  a  wise  plan.  We  will 
give  you  all  the  help  we  can." 

But  the  quest  for  Mr.  Raymond  seemed  a 
hopeless  one,  and  as  no  confirmation  could  be 
had  of  his  death  or  injury,  the  idea  gradually 
became  fixed  in  the  minds  of  Tom  and  Jack 
that  he  had  been  made  a  German  prisoner. 

"If  that  is  so,  and  I  can  get  any  trace  of  him, 
I'll  go  over  the  Rhine  to  get  him  back," 
snapped  Tom. 

"And  I'll  go  with  you !"  declared  his  chum. 

It  was  a  few  days  after  they  had  inspected 
the  German  "dud,"  and  the  boys  were  wonder- 
ing what  new  developments  might  take  place, 
the  shelling  of  Paris  meanwhile  continuing  at 


FOR  PERILOUS  SERVICE  99 

intervals,  that  one  evening  the  boys  were  visited 
in  their  lodgings  by  Major  de  Trouville. 

"Is  there  any  news?"  eagerly  asked  Tom,  for 
he  guessed  that  the  French  officer  would  not  be 
paying  a  merely  social  call.  Those  were  the 
strenuous  days  when  such  things  had  passed. 

"Well,  yes,  news  of  a  sort,"  was  the  answer. 
"But  what  I  came  to  find  out  was  whether  you 
were  so  taken  with  these  lodgings  that  you 
could  not  be  induced  to  move." 

"To  move!"  exclaimed  Jack. 

"Yes.  Have  you  found  anything  unhealthful 
here?" 

"Why,  no,"  replied  Tom,  wonderingly.  "We 
like  it  here.  The  landlord  couldn't  be  nicer, 
and  we're  in  a  good  location." 

"Nevertheless,  I  fear  I  shall  have  to  ask  you 
to  change  your  quarters,"  went  on  the  major, 
and  by  the  quizzical  smile  on  his  face  the  boys 
guessed  that  there  was  something  in  the  wind. 

"Let  me  ask  you  another  question,"  went  on 
the  French  officer.  "Have  you  been  annoyed 
since  you  have  been  here?" 

"Annoyed?    How?"  inquired  Tom. 

"By  unwelcome  visitors,  or  by  strangers." 

The  boys  thought  for  a  moment. 

"There's  one  chap  who  lives  in  the  same 
building  here,  whom  we've  seen  on  our  stair- 
case several  times,"  said  Jack,  slowly.  "Once 


ioo        FOR  PERILOUS  SERVICE 

I  saw  him  pause  at  our  door  with  a  key,  as 
though  he  were  going  to  enter,  but  he  heard 
me  coming,  and,  muttering  that  he  had  taken 
too  much  wine  and  was  a  bit  hazy  in  his 
memory,  he  went  on  upstairs." 

"I  thought  as  much,"  the  major  said.  "Was 
the  man  you  speak  of  familiar  to  you?" 

"No,  I  can't  say  that  he  was,"  replied  Jack, 
and  Tom  nodded  his  acquiescence.  "I  never 
saw  him  before." 

"Oh,  yes  you  have,"  and  the  major  smiled. 

"I  have?   Where?" 

"On  the  train,  coming  into  Paris." 

"You  mean  the  German  spy?"  cried  Jack. 

"The  same,"  answered  the  Frenchman. 
"That's  just  what  he  is,  and  he  is  spying  on  you. 
Now,  in  view  of  what  is  going  to  happen,  we 
don't  want  that  to  go  on.  So  I  have  come  to 
ask  you  to  change  your  lodgings,  and  I  think  I 
can  take  you  to  one  that  will  be  most  agreeable 
to  you  both." 

"But  what  does  all  this  mean?"  asked  Tom. 
"Is  there " 

"There  is  'something  doing'  as  you  say  so 
picturesquely  in  the  United  States,"  interrupted 
the  major.  "I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  you 
are  to  undertake  a  most  perilous  mission!" 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE   SPY 

TOM  RAYMOND  and  Jack  Parmly  looked  first 
at  one  another  and  then  at  the  major.  He  had 
been  smiling  at  their  wonderment,  but  he  was 
now  serious,  and  regarded  them  gravely. 

"Do  you  mean  we  have  to  do  something  to 
help  catch  this  spy?"  asked  Tom. 

"I'd  like  a  hand  in  that !"  exclaimed  Jack.  "I 
saw  him  first  —  he's  my  meat !" 

"Well,  get  him  if  you  can,  boys,"  said  the 
Frenchman.  "But  I  did  not  come  here  to  talk 
so  much  about  him  as  about  yourselves.  The 
spy  is  a  danger  and  a  menace,  but  we  know  him 
and  if  he  goes  too  far  we  can  put  out  our  hands 
and  drag  him  back. 

"No,  what  I  referred  to  is  more  dangerous 
than  merely  trying  to  catch  a  spy  at  his 
sneaking  work.  I  will  tell  you."  The  major 
suddenly  left  his  seat  near  the  window  of  the 
boy's  room,  and  quickly  opened  the  door  lead- 
ing to  the  hall.  The  passage  was  empty. 

"I  rather  thought  there  might  be  an  eaves- 
dropper," the  major  explained.  "I  was  followed 

101 


102  THE  SPY 

here,  though  I  don't  believe  the  spies  know  my 
mission.  However,  it  is  best  to  be  careful.  With 
your  permission  I'll  pull  down  the  shade.  There 
may  be  spies  stationed  across  the  street  who, 
with  powerful  glasses,  might  look  through  the 
win4ow  and  gather  something  of  what  we  say 
by  reading  our  lips.  It  has  been  done." 

"The  Germans  don't  leave  much  untried," 
commented  Tom.  "But  what  is  it  you  want  us 
to  do,  if  it  isn't  trying  to  trail  the  spy?" 

The  major  motioned  them  to  draw  closer  to 
him,  and  then,  leaving  the  door  into  the  hall 
open,  so  that  he  could  note  the  approach  of  any 
one,  he  whispered: 

"You  are  to  be  two  members  of  a  picked 
company  of  air  scouts  who  are  to  go  out, 
discover  the  big  German  gun,  and  destroy  it!" 

"Whew!"  whistled  Tom,  after  a  moment  of 
thought  during  which  he  and  Jack  exchanged 
quick  glances. 

"Well?"  asked  the  officer.  "How  does  that 
strike  you?  I  believe  that  is  another  of  your 
captivating  terms?" 

"It's  all  to  the  good!"  exclaimed  Jack. 
"What  say,  Tom?  We'll  take  that  on,  won't 
we?" 

"Well,  I  should  say!"  was  the  enthusiastic 
rejoinder.  "When  do  we  start  to " 

"Hush !"  cautioned  the  major.    "Not  so  loud. 


THE  SPY  103 

Though  we  have  taken  every  precaution,  there 
may  be  spies  unseen  by  us.  We  had  better  talk 
no  more  about  it  here." 

"Then  let's  go  to  our  new  lodgings,  if  we  are 
to  move,"  suggested  Tom.  "Will  it  be  safe  to 
talk  there?" 

"I  think  so,"  the  major  said.  "At  least  you 
will  be  among  friends.  Not  that  your  landlord 
here  is  not  a  true  Frenchman;  but  he  can  not 
control  the  actions  of  those  to  whom  he  lets 
lodgings.  You  will  be  better  where  you  are 
going.  Then  you  accept  the  mission?"  he  asked 
in  another  whisper. 

"Sure  thing!"  answered  Tom,  while  Jack 
nodded  his  assent.  "The  sooner  the  quicker!" 

"I  do  not  quite  get  that,"  the  major  confessed 
with  a  smile.  "But  I  think  I  gather  your 
meaning.  Now  if  you  will  proceed  to  this 
address,"  and  he  handed  Tom  a  small  slip  of 
paper,  "you  will  find  a  comfortable  lodging,  and 
you  will  be  among  friends." 

"How  soon  can  we  start  on  —  on  this 
mission  ?"  asked  Tom. 

"It  will  be  better  not  to  refer  to  it  directly," 
the  officer  said.  "Talk  as  little  about  it  as  you 
can.  But  you  shall  go  as  soon  as  the  arrange- 
ments can  be  made.  You  will  be  notified." 

"And  what  about  seeing  our  friends  —  Mrs. 
Gleason?"  asked  Jack. 


i(H  THE  SPY 

"Are  you  sure  its  Mrs.  Gleason  you  want  to 
see?"  inquired  Tom. 

"Oh,  cut  it  out!"  advised  Jack  with  a  blush. 

"You  may  see  them  soon  now,"  the  major 
told  him  with  a  smile.  "And  I  hope  you'll  soon 
have  good  news  of  your  father,"  he  added  to 
Tom. 

"I  hope  so,  too.  The  suspense  is  telling1  on 
me." 

"I  should  think  it  would.  Now  don't  leave  this 
bit  of  paper  about  with  the  address  of  your  new 
lodgings  on.  Better  commit  it  to  memory,  and 
then  destroy  the  sheet.  We  want,  if  possible,  to 
prevent  the  spy  from  knowing  where  you  have 
gone.  I  will  call  a  taxicab  for  you.  You  can 
be  packed  soon,  I  suppose?"  he  questioned. 

"Within  a  half  hour,"  answered  Jack.  "But 
say,  won't  that  spy  be  on  the  watch,  and  won't 
he  learn  from  the  taxicab  driver  where  we  have 
gone?" 

"Not  from  this  taxicab  driver,"  was  the 
smiling  answer.  "He  is  one  of  our  best  secret 
service  men.  But  treat  him  as  you  would  an 
ordinary  chauffeur.  You  may  even  give  him  a 
tip,  and  he  will  not  be  offended,"  and  once 
more  the  major  smiled. 

Tom  and  Jack,  having  made  sure  they 
remembered  the  address  given  them,  destroyed 
the  paper,  and  then  proceeded  to  get  ready  to 


THE  SPY  105 

move.  Meanwhile  Major  de  Trotiville  took  his 
departure,  promising  to  keep  in  communication 
with  the  Air  Service  boys. 

Punctual  to  the  half  hour  a  taxicab  appeared 
at  the  door.  The  boys  obeyed  the  instructions 
they  had  received,  and  looked  out  to  make  sure 
the  spy  was  not  on  hand.  If  he  was,  he  was  well 
concealed,  for  they  did  not  see  him. 

"Though  I  suppose  he's  somewhere  around," 
said  Jack. 

"Well,  maybe  we  can  fool  him,"  suggested 
Tom.  "We're  going  quite  on  the  other  side  of 
Paris." 

They  made  sure  that,  as  far  as  could  be  told 
by  observation,  there  was  no  one  resembling 
the  spy  around  the  place  or  in  the  street  in 
front,  and  then  got  into  the  cab  with  their  bag- 
gage. The  chauffeur  seemed  not  to  know  them, 
but  Tom  thought  there  was  just  the  slightest 
wink  of  one  eye,  as  though  to  indicate  that  the 
game  was  going  well. 

Their  cab  was  driven  out  along  the  Boule- 
vard Ragenta,  past  the  Gare  du  Nord,  and 
across  the  Boulevard  de  Rochechquart  to  a 
small  street  running  off  the  Rue  Ramey,  and 
there  the  cab  stopped  in  front  of  a  small  but 
neat-looking  house. 

"Quiet  enough  neighborhood,"  remarked 
Jack,  as  they  got  down,  and  Tom  tipped  the 


106  THE  SPY 

cabman  for  the  benefit  of  any  spies  who  might 
be  looking. 

"Yes,  I  guess  we  can  get  some  sleep  here,  if 
the  big  gun  doesn't  keep  us  awake,"  agreed 
Tom. 

On  the  way  they  had  passed  several  places 
where  the  havoc  of  the  "Bertha"  was  noticeable. 

Tom  and  Jack  seemed  to  be  expected,  for 
the  porter,  who  came  down  to  get  their  bags, 
did  not  seem  at  all  surprised  to  see  them.  He 
bade  them  follow  him,  and  a  little  later,  the 
cab  having  chugged  off,  the  boys  were  settled 
in  a  pleasant  room,  a  smiling  landlady  coming 
in  to  see  if  they  wanted  anything,  and  to  tell 
them  they  could  have  meals  with  her  at  certain 
hours,  or  they  might  dine  out  as  they  pleased. 

"Your  friends  will  be  here  shortly,"  she 
added. 

"Our  friends?"  questioned  Tom. 

"Yes,"  with  a  nod  and  a  smile.  "I  was  told 
to  say  they  would  be  here  shortly  after  you 
arrived." 

"Oh,  I  guess  she  means  the  major  and  some 
of  the  officers  will  come  to  see  how  we  are 
situated,  and  to  tell  us  more  about — the  big 
stunt,"  said  Tom  in  English  to  his  chum, 
assuming  that  "big  stunt"  would  sufficiently 
disguise  to  any  listening  spies,  if  such  there 
were,  the  real  object  that  lay  before  them. 


THE  SPY  107 

"I  suppose  that's  who  she  means,"  agreed 
Jack,  as  the  landlady,  who  gave  her  name  as 
Madame  Reboux,  withdrew. 

The  boys  were  busy  unpacking  their  few  be- 
longings, for  they  had  not  brought  much  to 
Paris,  not  intending  to  stay  long,  when  they 
heard  voices  in  the  hall  outside  their  room. 
And  at  the  tones  of  a  certain  voice  Tom  and 
Jack  started  and  looked  at  one  another. 

"Listen!"  exclaimed  Tom. 

"If  I  wasn't  afraid  you'd  say  I  was  dreaming, 
I'd  say  I  knew  that  voice !"  murmured  Jack. 

"I'd  say  the  same,"  added  Tom. 

"Who  would  you  say  it  was?"  his  chum 
challenged. 

"Well,  for  a  starter—" 

He  paused,  for  the  voice  sounded  more 
plainly  now,  and  it  said: 

"Yes,  this  is  the  right  place,  Mother.  Oh, 
do  you  think  the  boys  are  here  yet?" 

"It  surely  will  be  a  pleasure  to  meet  them 
again,"  said  another  voice,  evidently  that  of  a 
woman,  the  other  having  been  a  girl's. 

"I  hope  they  won't  have  forgotten  us,"  the 
girl  went  on,  and  at  that  Jack  could  no  longer 
keep  quiet.  He  rushed  to  the  door,  opened  it, 
and  cried: 

"Bessie!    Is  that  you?" 

"Oh,  it's  Jack !    Mother,  here's  Jack !"  cried 


io8  THE  SPY 

the  girl,  and  she  and  her  mother  were  soon 
shaking  hands  with  Tom  and  Jack. 

"So,  you  two  were  the  friends  we  were  soon 
to  see !"  exclaimed  Tom,  as  he  placed  chairs  for 
Mrs.  Gleason  and  her  daughter.  Or,  to  be 
exact,  Tom  placed  a  chair  for  the  mother,  while 
Jack  got  one  for  Bessie. 

"Yes,  we  were  told  you  would  be  here,"  said 
Bessie's  mother.  "We  did  not  know  you  were 
in  Paris  until  we  received  word  that  it  would 
be  better  for  us  to  change  our  lodging  and 
come  here." 

"The  same  word  we  received,"  said  Jack. 
"Say,  it's  working  out  mighty  queer,  isn't  it, 
Tom?" 

"Yes,  but  very  satisfactorily,  I  should  say. 
Things  couldn't  be  nicer.  How  have  you  been  ?" 
he  asked,  for  he  had  not  seen  the  girl  nor  her 
mother  since  the  sensational  rescue  from  the 
perfidious  Carl  Potzfeldt.  / 

"Very  well  indeed,"  answered  Mrs.  Gleason. 
"Both  Bessie  and  I  have  been  doing  Red  Cross 
work.  But  isn't  that  great  German  gun 
terrible?  Oh,  how  it  has  killed  and  maimed 
the  poor  women  and  children!  The  Huns  are 
fiends!" 

MI  quite  agree  with  you,"  said  Tom,  Jack 
meanwhile  talking  to  Bessie.  "But  it  isn't 
doing  them  the  military  good  they  thought  it 


THE  SPY  log 

would,  and,  if  all  goes  well,  it  may  not  very 
long  do  them  any  service  at  all." 

"You  mean — "  began  Mrs.  Gleason. 

But  just  then  Bessie,  who  had  arisen  to  go 
to  the  window  to  view  the  street,  turned  back 
with  a  start,  and  grasped  Jack's  hand. 

"Look !  Look !"  she  whispered,  and  through 
the  curtains  she  pointed  to  a  man  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  way. 

"Do  you  know  him?"  asked  Jack. 

"Know  aim?    Yes,  to  my  sorrow." 

"Who  is  it?"  asked  Tom. 

"The  spy!"  exclaimed  Jack.  "The  man  we 
saw  in  the  train,  and  the  same  fellow  who  tried 
to  get  into  our  lodgings.  In  spite  of  our  pre- 
cautions he  has  found  out  where  we  are." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  Tom.  "He 
may  not  be  here  for  any  particular  purpose. 
But  do  you  know  him  too,  Bessie?" 

"Yes,"  the  girl  answered.  "He  was  in  the 
chateau  where  mother  and  I  were  held  prisoners 
by  Potzfeldt.  He  is  a  tool  in  the  pay  of  that 
spy,  and  a  spy  himself!" 

"Then  we  ought  to  do  something!"  ex- 
claimed Jack,  and  he  started  to  rush  from  the 
room. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

WITH   COMRADES   AGAIN 

"HOLD  on !  Wait  a  minute  1"  exclaimed  Tom, 
as  he  caught  hold  of  his  chum.  Where  are  you 
going?" 

"Out  to  give  warning  to  a  policeman  or  to 
some  army  officer  about  that  spy!"  exclaimed 
Jack.  "We  know  him  to  be  such,  and  now, 
with  Bessie's  word  that  he  was  with  Potzfeldt, 
it's  enough  to  cause  his  arrest." 

"Yes,  maybe  it  is,"  agreed  Tom,  who  was  a 
bit  more  cautious  than  his  impetuous  chum. 
"But  if  we  do  that  we  may  spoil  the  plans  of 
Major  de  Trouville.  Better  let  matters  take 
their  course,  Jack.  That  spy  may  not  know  we 
are  here,  and  again,  he  may.  But  if  he  doesn't, 
rushing  out  now  would  be  sure  to  give  the 
secret  away.  As  it  is,  there  is  a  chance  we  may 
keep  it." 

Jack,  caught  midway  in  his  impetuous  rush 
from  the  room,  stood  reflectively.  What  Tom 
had  said  to  him  appeared  to  make  an  impres- 
sion. Then  Bessie  added  her  words  of  advice. 

"Yes,  Jack,"  she  said,  "I  think  it  would  be 
rather  rash  to  go  out  now  and  confront  that 

110 


WITH  COMRADES  AGAIN         in 

man,  or  start  a  chase  after  him.  I  know  I'm 
not  as  experienced  as  you  two  famous  bird- 
men,"  she  went  on  with  a  smile,  "but  I've  been 
through  some  terrible  experiences,  as  almost 
every  girl  has  in  this  war  zone,  and  I  can  do 
more  thinking  than  I  used  to.  Don't  you  think 
it  would  be  wise  to  wait,  Mother?" 

"Yes,  Bessie,"  answered  Mrs.  Gleason,  "I  do. 
Our  good  friends  in  the  military  service  who 
told  us  to  come  here,  must  have  had  some 
object.  Perhaps  it  was  connected  with  this 
same  man  who  was  so  unkind  to  us  in  the 
chateau,  and  who  was  certainly  a  tool  of  that 
man  I  trusted  once,  but  never  will  again — Carl 
Potzfeldt !"  and  she  shuddered  as  she  thought 
of  what  she  had  gone  through. 

"Let  him  go,"  she  said  to  Jack.  "Perhaps 
it  is  just  a  coincidence  that  he  is  passing  just 
as  we  arrive.  Our  departure  from  our  last 
lodgings  was  made  secretly." 

"So  was  ours,"  said  Tom.  "And  yet  I  don't 
see  how  that  spy  found  us  so  soon." 

"It  is  that  which  makes  me  think  it  is  acci- 
dental," observed  Mrs.  Gleason.  "It  would  be 
very  unwise  now  to  go  out,  I  think." 

"All  right,  then  I'll  stay  in,"  said  Jack  with 
a  smile.  "Especially  as  I  have  such  good  com- 
pany. Tell  me,"  he  went  on,  "are  you  and  your 
mother  going  to  board  here?"  he  asked  Bessie. 


112         WITH  COMRADES  AGAIN 

"Yes,"  answered  Mrs.  Gleason.  "And  though 
we  were  told  we  would  meet  friends  here  we 
could  not  guess  it  would  be  you  brave  boys." 

"Spare  my  blushes!"  laughed  Tom. 

"Same  here,"  added  Jack. 

"But  what  brings  you  to  Paris?"  asked 
Bessie.  "I  thought  you  boys  were  engaging 
in  combats  above  the  clouds." 

"We  have  been  fighting,  though  not  during 
the  last  two  weeks,"  said  Tom.  "I  had  word 
that  my  father  had  come  over  here,  but  he 
never  communicated  with  us,  and  we  came  to 
Paris  to  look  him  up.  So  far  we  haven't  suc- 
ceeded in  finding  him,"  and  he  gave  the  details 
of  the  visit  of  himself  and  his  chum  to  the 
capital,  telling  of  their  first  experience  during 
the  firing  of  the  big  gun. 

Bessie  and  Jack,  who  seemed  to  have  much 
to  say  to  one  another,  peered  from  behind  the 
curtains  out  of  the  window  now  and  then,  and 
Jack  at  last  reported  that  the  spy  had  passed 
on,  after  stopping,  apparently,  to  purchase 
some  fruit  at  a  stand  on  the  street. 

"I  don't  believe  he  knew  we  were  here," 
said  Bessie. 

"Well,  it  won't  do  to  take  any  chances," 
observed  Tom.  "However,  we  were  not  told 
to  remain  under  cover,  so  I  suppose  we  can  go 
out  when  we  like." 


WITH  COMRADES  AGAIN         113 

"Better  wait  until  we  get  some  word  from 
the  major,"  suggested  Jack,  who  was  getting 
some  of  his  chum's  caution. 

All  decided  this  was  best,  and  the  boys  spent 
the  rest  of  the  afternoon  in  getting  their  room 
to  rights,  Mrs.  Gleason  and  Bessie  doing  the 
same  in  their  apartment.  Mrs.  Gleason  had 
temporarily  been  relieved  from  Red  Cross  work 
to  recuperate,  she  said,  as  she  had  been  under 
a  great  strain. 

Toward  evening  Major  de  Trouville,  or 
"Trouville,"  as  he  democratically  liked  to  be 
called,  arrived,  and  when  told  of  the  sight  in 
the  street  of  the  spy,  who  turned  out  to  be  the 
same  man  who  was  one  of  the  captors  of  Bessie 
and  her  mother,  the  officer  said: 

"I  am  not  surprised.  In  fact  I  rather  looked 
for  that,  and  it  is  one  reason  why  I  wanted  to 
get  you  four  together  so  you  could  see  the  man 
at  the  same  time. 

"There  is  now  no  doubt  as  to  his  intentions, 
and  the  fact  that  he  was  here  so  soon  after  you 
arrived  proves  that  there  is  a  'leak'  somewhere. 
We  suspected  as  much,  and  I  think  I  know 
where  it  is.  It  is  good  information  to  have. 
Well,  boys,  did  I  surprise  you?"  he  asked, 
smiling. 

"You  did,  indeed,  but  it  was  a  pleasant 
surprise,"  said  Jack. 


H4         WITH  COMRADES  AGAIN 

"But  when  are  we  going  to  be  allowed  to  do 
something  to  silence  that  monster  cannon?" 
asked  Tom.  "It's  pleasant  to  be  here,  but  we 
are  not  forgetting  there  is  work  to  do." 

"Nor  would  I  have  you  forget,"  said  the 
major.  "A  number  of  persons  were  killed  to- 
day by  fire  from  the  long-range  gun.  We 
believe,  now,  that  there  are  two  or  three  of 
them,  as  the  shots  come  at  closer  intervals. 
It  is  imperative  that  something  be  done,  and 
so  I  have  brought  you  orders." 

"Good!"  cried  Jack. 

"That  sounds  like  business!"  commented 
Tom. 

"In  regard  to  your  father,"  went  on  the 
major,  addressing  Jack's  chum,  "we  will  be  on 
the  watch  for  him,  or  any  news  of  him,  and, 
no  matter  where  you  are,  unless  you  are  cap- 
tured  by  the  Germans,  you  shall  be  informed  as 
soon  as  possible." 

"Is  there  any  chance  of  being  made  prison- 
ers ?"  asked  Jack,  and  it  might  be  noted  that  he 
did  not  use  the  word  "danger." 

"There  is  always  that  chance  for  an  airman," 
replied  the  major.  "But  when  I  add  that  it 
may  be  possible  that  one  or  both  of  you  will 
take  a  flight  over  the  Rhine,  you  can  judge, 
with  the  hold  Germany  has  on  French  posses- 
sions, what  the  danger  is." 


WITH  COMRADES  AGAIN         115 

"Over  the  Rhine !"  exclaimed  Tom.  "Why, 
that's  a  flight  of  two  or  three  hundred  miles 
from  Paris." 

"Yes,  but  with  the  new  type  of  Italian  plane 
which  you  may  use,  it  is  not  impossible  in  a 
single  flight,"  said  the  major.  "However,  we 
will  talk  of  that  later.  Just  now  I  have  come 
to  tell  you  that  you  are  to  rejoin  your  comrades 
at  the  Lafayette  Escadrille  for  a  time.  There 
arrangements  will  be  made  for  the  perilous 
venture  I  spoke  of — the  silencing  of  the  big 
guns  that  are  bombarding  Paris.  I  wish  you 
all  success,  young  gentlemen." 

"Thanks,"  murmured  Jack. 

"We  consider  it  an  honor  to  be  picked  for 
such  duty,"  added  Tom.  "Are  any  others 
going  to  be  in  the  game?" 

"Oh,  yes.  We  shall  need  a  picked  corps  of 
the  best  airmen  we  have,  French  and  Ameri- 
cans, and  it  will  be  no  easy  matter  then.  The 
Germans  have  probably  been  planning  this  for 
a  long  time,  and  they,  no  doubt,  have  taken 
every  possible  precaution  against  surprise  or 
failure.  But  with  the  help  of  you  brave 
Americans  we  shall  win!" 

"That's  right!"  chimed  in  Bessie.  "Oh,  how 
I  wish  I  were  a  man !"  and  she  looked  enviously 
at  Jack  and  Tom. 

The  major  gave  Bessie  and  her  mother  some 


ii6         WITH  COMRADES  AGAIN 

instructions  in  regard  to  their  actions  should 
the  spy  come  back,  and  then  told  Tom  and 
Jack  to  prepare  to  leave  Paris  the  next  night. 

"Report  to  your  former  camp,"  he  said,  "and 
there  you  will  find  further  instructions  waiting 
for  you." 

"Well,  then  as  we  have  to-night,  our  last  one 
free,  let's  go  to  some  entertainment,"  sug- 
gested Tom  to  Bessie  and  her  mother.  "We 
can  have  supper  afterward — not  much  of  a 
celebration,  for  these  are  war  times  and  it  won't 
do  to  rejoice  too  much.  But  we  ought  to 
commemorate  this  meeting  somehow." 

"That's  right !"  agreed  Jack. 

So  they  went  to  a  little  play  and  had  supper 
afterward  in  a  quiet  restaurant.  That  is,  it  was 
quiet  until  a  sudden  explosion  a  few  blocks 
away  announced  the  arrival  of  another  German 
shell  from  the  big  gun,  and  then  there  was 
excitement  enough. 

Fortunately,  however,  the  shots  did  little  be- 
yond material  damage,  no  one  being  killed.  At 
the  same  time,  however,  there  appeared  some 
German  planes  over  Paris,  doubtless  to  observe 
the  effect  of  the  dropping  of  the  long-distance 
shells,  and  naturally  the  French  airmen  went 
up  to  give  them  combat. 

The  great  searchlights  began  to  play,  picking 
out  the  hostile  craft,  and  making  them  targets 


WITH  COMRADES  AGAIN         117 

for  the  machine  guns  of  the  intrepid  French- 
men, and  more  than  one  Boche  never  got  back 
over  his  lines  again,  while  several  Frenchmen 
found  heroes'  graves  on  the  soil  they  had  died 
to  defend. 

"Oh,  if  we  were  only  up  there  helping,"  said 
Tom,  as  he  and  his  friends  watched. 

"We  shall  be  there  very  soon,"  murmured 
Jack.  "And  it  can't  be  any  too  soon  for 
me." 

The  tide  of  battle  turned  in  favor  of  the 
French,  the  Hun  planes  withdrawing  as  the  fire 
got  too  hot  for  them.  And  soon  after  that  the 
long-range  gun  ceased  firing. 

It  was  rather  a  "pull"  for  Tom  and  Jack  to 
say  good-bye  to  Bessie  and  her  mother  in  Paris, 
but  they  knew  they  had  to  do  their  duty.  Nor 
would  Mrs.  Gleason  and  her  daughter  have 
kept  the  boys  back  for  the  world.  They  realized 
that  the  Air  Service  boys  were  helping  to  make 
the  world  safe  for  democracy,  as  they  them- 
selves were  doing  in  their  way. 

And  so  Tom  and  Jack,  their  mission  to  Paris, 
which  was  the  discovery  of  Mr.  Raymond,  hav- 
ing failed,  went  back  to  the  hangars,  there  to 
be  welcomed  by  their  comrades  in  arms. 

They  arrived  one  morning,  just  after  some 
planes  from  a  bombing  expedition  over  the 
German  lines  returned. 


ii8        WITH  COMRADES  AGAIN 

"What  luck?"  asked  Tom  of  a  pilot  with 
whom  he  had  often  flown. 

"The  best,  as  regards  the  damage  we  did," 
was  the  answer.  "We  blew  up  several  ammuni- 
tion dumps,  and  put  one  railroad  center  out  of 
business  for  a  time.  But  Louis  didn't  come 
back,"  and  the  man  turned  aside  for  a  moment. 

"You  mean  your  brother?"  asked  Jack, 
softly. 

"Yes." 

"Perhaps  he  is  only  captured,"  suggested 
Tom. 

"No,  his  machine  caught  fire.  They  got  his 
petrol  tank.  It's  all  up  with  him  and  La  Garde. 
But  we  had  our  revenge.  We  sprayed  the 
machine  that  got  them  until  there  was  nothing 
left  of  it.  And  I'm  going  out  again  to-day  in  a 
Nieuport.  They'll  pay  a  price  for  Louis  1" 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE   PICKED   SQUADRON 

"ALL  ready,  Jack?" 

"Just  a  moment,  Tom.  I  want  to  go  over 
my  struts  and  wires  to  make  sure  everything  is 
taut.  I  don't  want  any  accidents." 

"That's  right.  Got  plenty  of  ammunition 
drums  ?" 

"All  I  can  carry.  I've  got  some  tracer  bullets, 
too." 

"That's  good.  Glad  you  reminded  me  of 
them.  I  must  put  in  a  stock.  The  last  time  I 
went  up  I  wasted  a  drum  before  I  got  my  man." 

Tracer  bullets  for  aircraft  guns,  it  might  be 
observed,  are  balls  of  fire  which  enable  the  pilot 
to  see  the  course  his  machine  gun  bullets  are 
taking,  so  he  may  correct  his  fire. 

"Well,  how  about  you  now?"  asked  Tom,  as 
he  added  these  useful  supplies  to  his  ammuni- 
tion. 

"I  guess  we're  ready  to  start,"  replied  Jack. 

They  climbed  into  their  machines,  each  pilot 
using  a  single-seat,  swift-flying  craft,  equipped 
v/ith  a  Lewis  machine  gun.  The  squadron  was 
going  out  on  patrol  duty,  and  each  pilot  was  to 

119 


120         THE  PICKED  SQUADRON 

observe  what  he  could  behind  the  German  lines, 
and  come  back  to  report — that  is  if  he  did  not 
happen,  as  was  too  often  the  case,  to  be  bagged 
by  a  German  flier.  The  small,  swift  machines 
did  not  carry  the  wireless  outfit,  and  no  reports 
could  be  sent  back  to  headquarters  save  those 
the  pilot  himself  came  in  with. 

There  was  a  rattle  and  a  roar  as  the  motors 
of  the  ten  machines  started,  and  then  over  the 
ground  they  went,  "taxi  fashion,"  to  get  the 
necessary  speed  to  rise  into  the  air.  A  moment 
later  all  went  aloft,  and  were  headed  toward 
the  German  lines. 

Tom  and  Jack  kept  as  close  together  as  was 
safe,  but  it  is  dangerous  for  two  aeroplanes  to 
approach  too  closely.  If  they  do,  and  are  not 
under  good  control,  there  may  be  a  suction 
created  that  will  cause  a  collision. 

"Well,  I  hope  I  get  one  to-day,"  thought 
Tom,  as  he  manipulated  his  "joy  stick,"  so  as 
to  send  his  plane  up  on  a  sharp  slant.  "I  want 
to  make  good,  and  then  I'll  have  so  much  better 
chance  to  get  after  that  German  gun."  And 
the  same  thought  was  in  Jack's  mind. 

The  squadron  was  to  remain  aloft  on  a  two- 
hour  patrol,  that  is  unless  something  should 
occur  to  make  it  advisable  to  remain  up  longer. 
The  keen  eyes  of  Tom  and  Jack,  as  well  as 
those  of  their  companions  of  the  air,  were 


THE  PICKED  SQUADRON        121 

searching  for  signs  of  the  Hun  planes.  As  yet 
none  were  in  sight,  but  it  would  not  be  long 
before  they  would  come  out  to  give  battle. 

Whatever  else  may  justly  be  said  about  the 
Germans,  their  airmen  are  no  cowards,  and, 
when  conditions  are  favorable,  they  seldom 
decline  a  chance  to  combat  above  the  clouds, 
or  lower  down.  So  it  could  easily  be  guessed 
that  when  Tom,  Jack  and  the  others  found 
themselves  over  the  German  lines  that  the 
Boches  would  be  out  in  force. 

Somewhat  off  to  the  left  Tom  caught  sight 
of  a  captive  German  balloon,  looming  through 
the  mist,  and  as  it  is  always  the  desire  of  a 
French  flier  to  destroy  one  of  these,  thus  pre- 
venting the  observer  from  sending  by  wireless 
news  of  the  Allied  front,  he  started  for  this 
enemy.  Jack  saw  his  friend's  act,  and,  desiring 
to  aid,  turned  his  machine  in  the  same  direction. 

But  they  had  not  gone  far  before  they  ob- 
served a  number  of  black  specks  in  the  sky 
over  the  German  lines. 

"The  Huns  are  coming,"  reflected  Tom. 
"Now  for  some  hot  work." 

And  it  came  to  him,  to  Jack,  and  the  others, 
almost  before  they  realized  it.  Tom  never  got 
a  chance  to  attack  the  balloon  he  hoped  to 
force  to  descend  or  to  set  on  fire,  for  his  atten- 
tion was  taken  up  by  two  German  machines, 


122         THE  PICKED  SQUADRON 

which,  separating  from  the  others,  headed 
straight  for  him.  The  lad  gave  one  glance  in 
the  direction  of  Jack,  and  noted  that  a  single 
Hun  craft  was  about  to  engage  with  his  chum. 

"It's  a  regular  German  circus,"  thought  Tom, 
referring  to  the  number  of  hostile  craft.  "They 
delight  to  go  out  in  numbers." 

By  this  time  the  battle  in  the  air  had  begun. 
It  was  a  fight  above  the  clouds,  for  both  the 
French  and  the  German  machines  were  flying 
high,  and  had  gone  up  above  the  bunches  of 
fleecy  vapor  that  now  hid  the  ground  from 
sight. 

Tom  headed  straight  for  one  of  the  Hun 
machines,  seeking  to  get  above  it,  always  a 
point  of  vantage  in  an  air  battle,  and  as  he 
rushed  on  he  realized  that  his  machine  was 
being  hit  by  bullets  from  one  of  the  Hun  guns. 

Each  bullet,  as  it  struck,  made  a  loud  noise, 
as  it  punctured  the  tightly-drawn  linen  that 
covered  the  wings.  But  Tom  knew  that  his 
craft  could  stand  a  number  of  such  holes,  if 
only  the  struts,  the  supports,  and  the  guy  wires 
were  not  broken.  He  had  no  time,  now,  to 
note  what  Jack  or  his  comrades  were  doing, 
for  his  whole  attention  was  taken  up  with  the 
two  Hun  machines  engaging  him. 

One  seemed  to  be  more  skillful  than  the 
other,  and  to  this  one  Tom  gave  his  attention 


THE  PICKED  SQUADRON         123 

first.  He  emptied  a  stream  of  bullets  full  into 
this  flier's  craft,  noting,  after  the  first  few  bad 
shots,  which  he  could  tell  by  the  tracers,  that 
he  had  perfect  range. 

Guiding  his  craft  with  one  hand  and  his  feet, 
Tom  worked  the  Lewis  gun  with  his  other 
hand,  and  he  had  emptied  a  whole  drum  at  the 
daring  Hun  before  he  had  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing  the  machine  crumple  up.  Tom's  bullets 
had  struck  some  part  that  had  caused  the  wings 
to  collapse,  and  the  airman  went  down  to  earth, 
his  craft  out  of  control. 

But  matters  were  not  to  go  easy  with  the 
American.  The  other  German  was  now  in  a 
better  position  for  getting  Tom  than  the  latter 
was  for  potting  him,  and  Tom  felt  a  stream  of 
bullets  flying  around  him.  One  chipped  his 
gun,  and  another  grazed  his  cheek,  the  close 
call  making  his  heart  stand  still  for  a  moment. 
But  he  never  faltered. 

"I've  got  to  get  above  him,"  Tom  thought 
fiercely. 

He  made  a  risky  spiral  turn  to  one  side,  and 
began  to  mount,  seeking  to  get  in  position  to 
fire  to  better  advantage.  It  was  touch  and  go 
for  a  while,  and  he  felt,  rather  than  heard,  his 
craft  receive  several  bullets. 

"If  only  the  gasolene  tank  isn't  hit,"  thought 
Tom. 


124         THE  PICKED  SQUADRON 

But  good  fortune  in  this  respect  was  with 
him,  and  he  got  in  a  position  where  he  could 
point  his  machine  (and  the  gun  at  the  same 
time,  for  this  is  how  the  guns  are  aimed  in  the 
single  aircraft)  at  the  Hun  flier.  And  then 
Tom  sent  forth  a  rain  of  bullets. 

For  a  moment  they  seemed  to  have  no  effect, 
and  yet  Tom  knew  he  had  shot  straight.  Then, 
even  while  he  felt  a  sharp  pain  in  one  hand, 
showing  that  he  had  been  hit,  he  saw  the  other 
machine  start  down  in  a  spinning  nose  dive. 
That  meant  he  was  going  downward  head  first, 
and  at  the  same  time  spinning  around  like  a  top. 

This  spinning  nose  dive  may  be  intentional 
or  accidental — that  is,  with  the  machine  in  con- 
trol, or  out  of  control.  The  spinning  nose 
dive  was  discovered  by  accident,  but  is  now 
part  of  the  regular  flying  features,  and  is  often 
used  by  aviators  to  escape  from  an  enemy. 

It  is  almost  impossible  to  hit  a  plane  doing  a 
spinning  nose  dive,  and  if  an  aviator  is  over 
his  own  lines  he  may  be  able  to  come  out  of  it 
before  he  reaches  the  ground,  and  so  be  safe. 
Many  German  planes  have  escaped  in  this  way, 
and  often  a  French  airman  has  thought  he  has 
sent  his  enemy  down  disabled,  when,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  other  has  merely  adopted 
this  ruse  to  get  away. 

"Well,  I  don't  know  whether  I  got  him,  or 


THE  PICKED  SQUADRON        125 

whether  he  got  frightened  and  went  down  to 
fool  me,"  thought  Tom.  "Anyhow  they're 
both  out  of  the  way,  and  I  can  go  after  the  bal- 
loon." 

But  Tom  could  not,  for  two  reasons.  One 
was  that  the  wound  in  his  hand  was  bleeding 
profusely,  and  he  knew  it  ought  to  be  attended 
to  before  he  was  incapacitated.  Another  was 
that  the  balloon  was  being  hauled  down,  and 
as  more  French  planes  were  in  the  air  now, 
making  a  number  superior  to  the  Huns,  the 
latter  turned  tail  and  retreated. 

It  was  inadvisable  to  follow  them  over  their 
own  lines  now,  and  the  squadron,  or  what  was 
left  of  it,  began  to  retreat.  Tom  noted  the  ab- 
sence of  three  of  the  French  planes,  and  among 
the  missing  was  Jack's. 

"I  wonder  if  they  got  him,"  Tom  mused,  his 
heart  becoming  like  lead.  His  eyes  sought  the 
air  about  him,  but  Jack's  machine,  which  carried 
a  little  United  States  flag  where  it  could  easily 
be  seen,  was  not  in  sight. 

It  was  impossible  to  get  any  information  up 
in  the  air.  Tom  would  have  to  wait  until  they 
got  back  to  the  aerodrome.  And  he  put  on 
speed  to  get  there  the  sooner,  in  order  to  end 
his  suspense. 

"And  the  other  brave  fellows  —  I  wonder 
what  happened  to  them,"  mused  Tom.  In  his 


126         THE  PICKED  SQUADRON 

worry  over  the  fate  of  Jack  and  the  others  he 
scarcely  minded  the  pain  in  his  hand. 

He  made  a  good  landing-,  but  being  rather 
weak  and  faint  from  loss  of  blood,  he  scarcely 
heeded  the  congratulations  of  his  comrades, 
who  had  received  word,  by  telephone  from  the 
front,  of  the  fate  of  some  of  the  Hun  machines. 

"Where's  Jack?"  Tom  gasped,  while  a  surgeon 
was  putting  a  bandage  on  his  hand. 

"Right  here,  old  scout !"  came  the  unexpected 
answer,  and  Jack  himself  stepped  out  from  amid 
a  throng  of  airmen.  "Why  didn't  you  wait  for 
me?"  Jack  went  on.  "I  was  coming  back." 

"Coming  back?  Did  you  come  down  safely?*' 
asked  Tom,  beginning  to  feel  a  little  better  now. 
Then  Tom  realized  the  futility  of  his  question, 
for  was  not  Jack  there  in  the  flesh  ? 

"Of  course  I  came  back,  old  scout,"  was  the 
answer.  "I  had  hard  luck,  though,  but  I'd  have 
gone  up  again  if  they'd  only  waited  for  me." 

"What  happened?"  asked  Tom. 

"Oh,  just  after  I  potted  my  man  —  or  at  least 
sent  him  down  out  of  control  —  I  got  a  bullet 
through  my  gasolene  tank.  Luckily  it  didn't  set 
the  petrol  on  fire,  but  I  knew  I'd  better  not 
take  any  chances.  I  tried  to  plug  up  the  punc- 
ture with  some  chewing  gum,  but  it  wouldn't 
work.  Guess  the  gum  they  sell  now  hasn't  as 
much  old  rubber  boot  stock  in  it  as  it  used  to 


THE  PICKED  SQUADRON         127 

have.  Anyhow  it  was  leaking  like  a  sieve,  and 
I  had  to  head  for  our  lines." 

"Tough  luck!"  consoled  Tom.  Jack  did  not 
add  that  he  had,  as  soon  as  he  landed,  got  into 
another  machine,  and  was  about  to  go  back  and 
join  his  comrades  when  they  returned,  having 
practically  won  the  battle  above  the  clouds. 

Congratulations  were  extended  to  the  mem- 
bers of  the  squadron,  who  accepted  their  honors 
modestly  enough,  as  was  characteristic  of  them. 

Then,  after  Tom's  wound  had  been  dressed, 
and  he  and  Jack  were  talking  over  the  events 
of  the  day,  there  came  a  communication  from 
the  commander  of  the  air  division  in  that  sector. 
It  was  an  order  calling  on  certain  men  to  report 
at  once  for  special  duty.  A  picked  squadron 
was  to  be  detailed  for  a  hazardous  enterprise, 
it  was  said. 

"And  our  names  are  there!"  cried  Jack. 
"Tom,  old  man,  we're  going!" 

"But  where  is  it?"  asked  another  American 
flier  named  Boughton.  "What's  the  game?" 

Knowing  the  secret  would  be  safe  with  him 
Tom  said : 

"We're  going  to  pot  the  big  German  cannon 
that's  bombarding  Paris!" 


CHAPTER  XVI 

MISSING 

NEWS  of  the  shelling  of  Paris  by  the  long- 
range  gun  had,  of  course,  been  received  at  the 
aerodrome,  though  there  had  not,  as  yet,  many 
details  come  in.  Tom  and  Jack,  as  the  latest 
arrivals  from  the  big  city,  were  called  upon  to 
tell  all  they  knew,  and  they  related  their  experi- 
ences in  the  raids,  and  also  told  about  the 
various  theories  of  the  big  gun. 

"But  how  are  we  going  to  find  it?"  asked 
Boughton.  "It's  easy  enough,  of  course,  for 
our  squadron  to  go  out  with  a  lot  of  bombs. 
But  where  *re  we  going  to  drop  'em  ?" 

"Oh,  we're  to  go  to  Paris  for  further  instruc- 
tions before  starting  on  the  quest,"  said  Tom, 
who  had  made  some  inquiries  about  the  orders 
concerning  the  picked  squadron. 

"And  they  may  have  discovered  irs  location 
by  this  time,"  added  Jack.  "We  know  about 
where  it  is — somewhere  in  the  sector  between 
Hamegicourt  and  Conde.  The  rest  ought  to 
be  easy." 

"Not  so  easy  as  it  sounds,  my  friends,"  put 
in  a  French  flier.  "I  know  that  region.  It  is  a 

128 


MISSING  129 

big  one ;  and  the  Germans  no  doubt  have  their 
gun  well  camouflaged.  It  will  not  be  easy." 

"But  we'll  get  it !"  asserted  Tom. 

"Naturally,"  said  the  Frenchman,  as  if  that 
was  all  there  was  to  it. 

Tom's  wound  was  painful,  but  not  dangerous, 
though  it  would  keep  him  on  the  ground  for  a 
day  or  two.  Though,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  none 
of  the  members  of  the  picked  squadron  was 
allowed  to  go  aloft  after  the  orders  came  detail- 
ing them  for  work  in  connection  with  the 
monster  cannon.  Their  places  were  taken  by 
others  who  were  sent  for,  some  being  new  fliers 
who  were  burning  to  make  a  name  for  them- 
selves. 

Besides  Tom  and  Jack,  in  the  picked  squadron 
there  were  Boughton,  another  American,  Cerfe 
and  Tierse,  two  intrepid  Frenchmen,  and 
Haught,  an  Englishman,  who  insisted,  but  with 
little  success,  that  his  name  be  pronounced  as 
though  spelled  "Hoo." 

These  six  were  to  be  depended  on  to  find 
and  destroy  the  German  cannon  —  all  of  them 
if  there  were  more  than  one,  as  was  likely.  And 
to  this  picked  squadron  other  members  would 
be  added  as  need  arose.  All  six  were  skillful 
fliers,  and  brave  men  of  the  air,  as  may  easily 
be  guessed.  They  were  to  use  whatever  type  of 
machine  they  liked  best  —  the  single  seaters, 


i3o  MISSING 

the  great  bombing  planes,  and,  it  was  even  said, 
one  of  the  immense  Italian  fliers.  This  last  was 
a  craft  capable  of  carrying  several  men  and  a 
quantity  of  supplies  and  ammunition. 

Very  soon,  then,  Tom  Raymond  and  Jack 
Parmly  were  on  their  way  to  Paris  again,  ac- 
companied by  their  comrades,  and  all  would 
soon  be  engaged  in  the  difficult  and  perilous 
task  of  finding  the  new  German  long-range  can- 
non. 

"I  suppose  you'll  make  another  attempt  to 
find  your  father?"  suggested  Jack  to  his  chum, 
as  they  rode  in  on  the  train. 

"Indeed  I  shall,  if  I  have  time.  I  can't  under- 
stand why  I  haven't  had  some  word  before  this. 
There  are  several  possible  reasons,  of  course.  If 
it  wasn't  that  we  know  he  got  to  Rue  Lafay- 
ette I'd  say  his  ship  had  been  sunk  'without  a 
trace,'  as  the  Germans  ordered  in  other  cases. 
But,  of  course,  he  safely  reached  this  side.  Then 
he  just  seems  to  have  dropped  out  of  sight,  for 
I  can't  believe  he  was  killed  when  the  shell  from 
the  big  gun  hit  the  house  where  he  had  taken 
lodging.  He  may  have  found  it  advisable  to 
return  home  at  once,  for  some  reason,  and 
didn't  have  a  chance  to  leave  any  word  for  me, 
or  send  me  any  message.  And  perhaps  he  hasn't 
got  back  to  America  yet.  Then,  too,  he  may 
be  in  Germany,  a  prisoner.'* 


MISSING  131 

"Let  us  hope  not,"  said  Jack,  softly,  and  Tom 
echoed  the  wish. 

Much  as  he  wished  he  could  devote  some  time 
to  the  search  for  his  father,  Tom  realized  that 
he  was  working  under  military  orders,  and, 
however  dear  his  father  was  to  him,  the  sacrifice 
of  his  personal  affairs  must  be  made.  He  knew 
he  would  only  have  time  to  make  some  brief  in- 
quiries, and  then  he  and  Jack  must  go  with  the 
squadron  to  the  headquarters  assigned  to  it,  as 
near  the  location  of  the  big  German  gun  as 
possible,  and  there  try  to  silence  it. 

The  train  the  picked  squadron  was  traveling 
on  was  late,  and  it  was  dusk  when  they  alighted 
at  the  railroad  station. 

"Think  we'll  have  a  chance  to  see  anything 
of  the  bombardment?"  asked  Boughton. 

"I  was  going  to  say  I  hoped  net,"  answered 
Tom,  "for  I  wish  the  beastly  gun,  or  guns, 
would  blow  up.  But  that  would  take  away  our 
chance  to  pot  'em,  and  I  know  we  all  want  to 
do  that.  You  may  see  something,  though  they 
don't  bombard  at  night  as  often  as  they  do  by 
day.  Of  late,  however,  before  we  left,  the  night 
firing  was  more  frequent.  Possibly  they  have 
found  some  means  of  hiding  the  gun  flashes  or 
of  letting  them  mingle  with  others  along  a  line 
so  the  exact  location  of  the  big  Bertha  is  a 
matter  of  doubt." 


132  MISSING 

As  they  alighted  from  the  train,  and  were 
about  to  seek  some  taxicabs  to  take  them  to 
lodgings  that  had  been  assigned  them,  they  all 
became  aware  of  the  fact  that  something  un- 
usual was  going  on.  Suddenly  the  electric  lights 
went  out,  leaving  the  region  about  the  station, 
and  indeed  all  of  Paris,  in  comparative  darkness. 

At  the  same  time  a  motor  fire  engine  rushed 
screeching  through  the  streets,  giving  an  alarm. 

"What  is  it?"  cried  Boughton.  "Is  the  big 
gun  firing?" 

"It's  a  Zeppelin  raid !  I  was  here  once  before 
when  they  had  one,"  said  the  Englishman  coolly. 
"Mind  your  heads,  boys.  Just  our  rotten  luck 
not  to  have  a  machine  to  go  up  after  it." 

He  hurried  out  into  the  open  street  where 
he  could  have  a  view  of  the  sky,  and  the  others 
followed.  There  was  more  excitement  than 
during  the  bombardment  of  the  big  gun.  People 
were  rushing  here  and  there  in  search  of  safe 
places,  and  taxicabs,  with  their  lamps  like  fire- 
flies in  the  darkness,  were  skidding  hither  and 
yon,  their  horns  calling  for  a  clear  way. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  muffled  roar,  at  some 
distance  off.  This  was  followed  by  a  hoarse 
murmur,  as  though  a  burst  of  rage  from  many 
throats  at  the  unspeakable  outrage  of  the  Huns 
in  killing  women  and  children. 

At  the  same  time  the  anti-aircraft  guns,  with 


MISSING  133 

which  Paris  is  so  efficiently  guarded,  began  to 
bark  and  to  send  their  red  flashes  out  into  the 
blackness  of  the  night.  They  were  shooting  at 
the  Zeppelin,  as  yet  unseen  by  the  men  of  the 
picked  squadron,  and  the  gunners  aimed  accord- 
ing to  instructions  sent  them  by  wireless  from 
scouts  hovering  in  the  air  above  the  city. 

As  soon  as  word  comes  from  the  front,  about 
eighty  miles  from  Paris,  that  a  Zeppelin  is  on 
its  way  to  raid,  an  elaborate  system  of  defense 
is  put  into  operation.  There  are  some  airmen 
above  Paris  all  the  while,  frequently  as  many 
as  forty  on  sentry  duty.  But  when  word 
comes  of  a  Zeppelin  raid  the  whole  squadron, 
numbering  close  to  three  hundred,  goes  aloft. 
By  their  searchlights,  aided  by  those  on  the 
surface,  these  fliers  endeavor  to  pick  up  the 
German  machine,  and,  too,  they  endeavor  to 
get  near  enough  to  attack  it. 

This  was  what  was  now  going  on.  Pande- 
monium appeared  let  loose,  and  the  explosion 
of  the  German  bombs,  mingling  with  the  noise 
of  the  French  guns,  made  Paris  seem  like  a 
battlefield.  Occasionally  could  be  heard,  when 
the  guns  were  silenced  for  a  moment,  the  roar 
of  the  many  aeroplane  motors  aloft. 

The  Zeppelin  seemed  to  be  over  a  section  of 
Paris  near  the  Tuileries,  judging  by  the  bursts 
of  light  in  that  direction.  Tom,  Jack,  and  their 


I34  MISSING 

friends  wished  with  all  their  hearts  that  they 
might  take  a  hand  in  the  defense,  but  it  was 
not  to  be.  For  perhaps  half  an  hour  the  anti- 
aircraft guns  roared  out  their  defiance  to  the 
Hun,  and  then  a  large  flare  of  gasolene  was 
lighted  in  a  public  square. 

This  was  a  signal  for  the  aeroplanes  to  return, 
for  the  Zeppelin  had  left,  either  because  she 
found  the  situation  too  perilous  for  her,  or 
because  she  had  used  up  all  her  bombs. 

The  lights  were  turned  on  again,  and  the  new 
arrivals  watched  the  aeroplanes  returning  one 
by  one,  being  recognized  by  their  lights  in  the 
air  as  they  moved  about  like  gigantic  illum- 
inated insects. 

"Well,  that's  some  excitement,"  observed 
Tom,  as  he  and  the  others  finally  succeeded  in 
getting  cabs,  and  started  for  their  destination. 
"I  hope  no  one  was  killed." 

But  the  bombs  of  the  inhuman  Huns  had 
found  several  marks,  and  while  the  harm  from 
a  military  standpoint  was  small,  a  number  of 
persons  had  been  killed.  Some  damage  had  been 
inflicted  on  the  Zeppelin,  it  was  said  later,  one 
brave  airman  saying  he  got  near  enough  to 
spray  some  bullets  into  one  of  the  cabins  where 
a  crowd  of  officers  and  men  were  working  the 
machine. 

"We  will  be  with  you  a  little  later,"  said  Tom 


MISSING  135 

to  the  other  members  of  the  squadron,  as,  hav- 
ing reached  their  lodgings,  the  two  chums  set 
out. 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"To  call  on  some  ladies,"  answered  Jack,  for 
he  and  Tom  had  planned  to  see  Bessie  and  her 
mother. 

They  reached  their  own  former  stopping 
place,  to  which  they  had  been  sent  by  Major 
de  Trouville,  but  when  they  inquired  for  the 
Gleasons  the  landlady,  who  remembered  the 
boys,  stared  at  them  in  surprise,  and  said: 

"Why,  Madam  Gleason  and  her  daughter  are 
not  here !  They  went  out  this  morning  to  meet 
you,  and  have  not  come  back!" 

"To  meet  us  ?"  gasped  Jack. 

"Yes,  in  answer  to  your  note  bidding  them 
do  so!" 


CHAPTER  XVII 

SEEKING  THE  GUN 

TOM  and  Jack  gazed  blankly  at  one  another. 
The  same  thought  was  in  the  minds  of  both. 

"The  spy!" 

"That's  who  did  it,"  declared  Tom.  "He 
forged  our  names  to  a  note — no  hard  task  since 
neither  Bessie  nor  her  mother  knows  our  writing 
very  well — and  he's  induced  them  to  go  some 
place  where  he  could  get  them  in  his  power 
again." 

"But  why?"  asked  Jack. 

"Probably  because  Potzfeldt  wanted  him  to 
do  it.  He  still  has  his  eye  on  Mrs.  Gleason's 
property,  I  presume,  if  there  is  any  left  after  his 
robbery." 

"It  certainly  is  tough  to  think  that  Bessie 
and  her  mother  have  again  fallen  into  his 
clutches!"  exclaimed  Jack.  "And  we  can't  do 
a  thing  to  rescue  them.  We've  got  to  report 
with  the  others  in  the  morning  at  the  new 
aerodrome." 

"Yes,  but  we  still  have  to-night  free!"  cried 
Tom.  "It  will  give  us  several  hours  to  make 
a  search,  and  we'll  do  it!  Do  you  know  where 

136 


SEEKING  THE  GUN  137 

Mrs.  Gleason  and  Bessie  went  in  response  to 
this  forged  note?"  he  asked  the  landlady. 

She  mentioned  a  certain  restaurant,  not  far 
away,  where  Tom  and  his  chum  had  frequently 
eaten  with  Mrs.  Gleason  and  her  daughter. 

"She  was  rather  surprised  to  get  the  note 
from  you,"  said  the  landlady,  "and  wondered 
why  you  didn't  come  yourself.  But  she  supposed 
it  had  something  to  do  either  with  your  search 
for  your  father  or  with  war  matters,  so  she  did 
not  question  the  messenger.  I  heard  her  men- 
tion the  place  where  she  and  Bessie  were  going, 
or  I  would  not  know." 

"How  long  ago  was  it?"  asked  Jack. 

"Oh,  just  before  luncheon  time.  And  they 
haven't  come  back." 

"The  scoundrels  have  a  long  start  of  us!" 
exclaimed  Jack.  "We'll  have  to  do  the  best 
we  can." 

"Better  notify  the  police  at  once,"  suggested 
Tom.  "We'll  need  their  help." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  his  chum. 

Their  uniform  was  an  open  sesame  to  the 
police  officials,  and  a  detective  was  at  once 
detailed  to  go  with  the  boys  to  the  restaurant. 
There,  as  might  have  been  expected,  there  was 
no  news.  The  spy,  or  whoever  Potzfeldt's  agent 
was,  had  been  too  clever  for  that.  All  that  could 
be  learned  from  a  taxicab  driver  was  that  a  lady 


138  SEEKING  THE  GUN 

and  a  girl,  answering  the  descriptions  of  Bessie 
and  her  mother,  had  been  met  in  front  of  the 
restaurant  by  a  man. 

The  three,  after  a  short  talk,  had  driven  off 
together  in  an  automobile,  and  that  was  the  last 
seen  of  them. 

"But  we'll  get  some  trace,"  declared  the 
detective.  "It  is  hard  to  get  in  or  out  of  Paris 
now  without  proper  papers.  And  while,  of 
course,  this  spy  may  have  forged  documents, 
there  is  a  chance  that  we  may  intercept  him 
and  help  your  friends.  Time  is  against  us,  but 
we  will  do  our  best." 

Tom  and  Jack  knew  that.  There  was  nothing 
else  to  do,  and  so,  worried  as  they  were,  they 
went  back  to  their  comrades.  Tom  made  some 
inquiries  about  his  father,  but,  as  he  feared,  no 
news  had  come. 

As  may  be  imagined  Tom  and  Jack  did  not 
pass  a  very  restful  night.  The  Zeppelin  raid  had 
set  their  nerves  on  edge,  as  well  as  those  of 
every  one  else,  and  it  could  not  be  told  when 
the  big  gun  might  begin  firing  again.  Then  the 
fact  of  Mrs.  Gleason  and  Bessie  being  missing, 
and  not  knowing  in  what  danger  they  might 
be,  added  to  the  boys'  anxiety. 

They  paid  a  late  visit  to  the  police,  hoping 
for  news,  but  the  spy  had  not  been  apprehended. 
Then  they  hurried  back  to  get  a  little  rest 


SEEKING  THE  GUN  139 

before  starting  with  their  comrades  of  the  air 
to  search  for  the  monster  gun. 

While  these  events  were  transpiring,  the 
French  army  intelligence  department  had  not 
been  idle.  The  officials  knew  how  vitally  neces- 
sary it  was,  in  order  not  to  have  the  morale  of 
the  people  of  Paris  weakened,  to  do  something 
to  find  and  silence  the  big  guns.  And  first  it 
was  ncessary  to  discover  them. 

While  this,  as  yet,  had  not  been  done  with 
exactness,  owing  to  the  concealing  tactics  of 
the  Germans,  it  was  believed  that  the  long- 
range  cannon  was  hidden  in  a  certain  wood  near 
Laon,  French  airmen  had  endeavored  to  spy 
out  certain  positions  there,  but  an  unusually 
large  number  of  German  planes  had  fought 
them  off. 

"That's  pretty  good  evidence  that  there  must 
be  something  doing,"  observed  Tom,  when  he 
heard  this  information.  "Laon  is  about  ten  miles 
behind  the  German  lines  as  they  exist  at  present. 
Just  a  breather  for  a  good  French  plane.  Jack, 
that's  a  trip  we'll  soon  be  taking." 

"I'll  be  with  you,  old  scout.  How's  your 
hand?" 

"Oh,  all  right  now.  I  can  hold  the  joy  stick 
or  work  the  gun.  I'm  ready  for  whatever  comes 
along." 

The  time  had  come  for  the  picked  squadron 


140  SEEKING  THE  GUN 

to  leave  Paris  and  assemble  at  the  aerodrome 
assigned  to  them  as  their  headquarters  while 
the  search  for  the  big  gun  was  in  progress. 
Sad  at  having  to  leave  without  having  some 
word  of  Mr.  Raymond,  and  without  knowing 
the  fate  of  Bessie  and  her  mother,  Torn  and 
Jack,  nevertheless,  bore  up  well  and  left  with 
their  comrades,  going  out  of  Paris  on  a  train 
that  would  eventually  bring  them  to  their  head- 
quarters. 

In  a  way  their  mission  was  a  secret  one.  Yet 
it  was  a  question  if  the  Germans  did  not  guess 
that  something  like  what  really  was  afoot  would 
be  undertaken  in  order  to  silence  the  super- 
cannon.  They  were  up  to  all  the  tricks  of  war, 
and  they  must  have  realized  that  the  French 
would  do  as  the  Germans  themselves  would  do 
under  similar  circumstances. 

"Well,  this  sure  is  some  place!"  exclaimed 
Tom,  as  they  reached  the  camp  where  they  were 
to  stay  until  the  gun  had  been  destroyed,  or 
until  some  other  change  in  plans  was  necessary. 
"It's  the  best  aerodrome  we've  struck  since  we 
began  flying  in  this  war." 

"I  believe  you !"  echoed  Jack. 

The  place,  though  newly  established  just  back 
of  the  French  lines,  where  they  opposed  the 
German  trenches,  was  well  fitted  up  for  the 
purpose  to  which  it  was  to  be  devoted. 


SEEKING  THE  GUN  141 

There  were  a  number  of  canvas  hangars  for 
the  aeroplanes,  there  were  living  quarters  for 
the  men,  a  wireless  station  and  a  well  defended 
camp  where  the  aviators  might  live  in  comfort 
during  the  periods  between  their  flights. 

Of  course  the  place  was  open  to  attack  by 
German  fliers,  but  this  was  true  of  every  place 
along  the  line.  Sufficient  camouflaging  had  been 
done,  however,  to  render  the  spot  reasonably 
secure  from  bombing.  Of  course  a  direct  attack 
from  in  front  would  be  met  by  the  admirable 
French  system  of  defense,  and  there  were  plenty 
of  reserves  that  could  be  brought  up  if  a  general 
advance  were  attempted  by  the  Germans.  But 
as  there  was  no  particular  place  of  any  military 
or  strategic  importance  on  that  sector,  the 
worst  that  was  to  be  feared  was  an  attack  from 
the  air. 

And  this  would  be  guarded  against  both  by 
the  French  fliers  themselves  and  by  a  battery 
of  the  newest  type  of  anti-aircraft  gun. 

"They  don't  seem  to  have  forgotten  much," 
observed  Tom,  as  he  and  Jack,  with  the  others, 
went  to  the  quarters  assigned  to  them. 

"You  said  something!"  exclaimed  Jack,  ad- 
miringly. 

Thus  had  been  set  up  in  this  locality,  where 
heretofore  no  aircraft  activities  had  been  carried 
on  to  any  extent,  a  most  perfect  escadriile. 


142  SEEKING  THE  GUN 

It  was  designed  to  destroy  the  big  German 
cannon.  Would  it  succeed? 

That  was  a  question  every  man  of  the  Allies 
asked. 

Shortly  after  the  arrival  of  the  picked  squadron 
at  the  camp,  which,  in  honor  of  Tom  and  Jack 
had  been  named  "Lincoln,"  word  came  in  over 
the  wireless  that  the  big  gun  had  again  fired 
on  Paris. 

"It's  funny  we  didn't  hear  any  report  of  it," 
said  Jack. 

"There  have  been  reports  enough,"  Tom  re- 
marked. "I've  heard  the  booming  of  distant 
guns  ever  since  we  got  near  this  place.  Any 
one  of  them  may  have  been  the  monster,  or 
they  may  have  been  firing  other  guns  to  hide 
the  sound  of  this  cannon.  Then,  too,  it  may 
not  make  as  much  noise  as  we  think  it  ought 
to.  The  Germans  may  have  found  a  new  kind 
of  powder,  or  even  some  propelling  gas,  that 
makes  no  extraordinary  report.  In  that  case 
we  couldn't  locate  the  gun  by  the  sound." 

"Maybe  you're  right,"  agreed  Jack.  "Anyhow 
they're  firing,  that  much  is  proved;  and  it's 
somewhere  over  there,"  and  he  motioned  toward 
the  German  lines. 

Much  as  the  airmen  desired  to  start  at  once 
in  their  search  for  the  monster  cannon,  it  wasf 
deemed  wise  to  have  first  a  consultation  and  a 


SEEKING  THE  GUN  143 

general  understanding  of  what  means  should  be 
employed. 

Then,  too,  all  the  aircraft  were  new,  having 
been  shipped  to  Camp  Lincoln  and  there  assem- 
bled, and  it  was  desired  to  test  them  before 
taking  the  dangerous  flights  over  the  German 
lines.  So  the  airmen  would  have  to  spend  some 
time  —  perhaps  half  a  week  —  in  preliminary 
work. 

Meanwhile  the  great  cannon  would  keep  up 
its  deadly,  though,  from  a  military  standpoint, 
useless  work. 

And  so  began  the  preparation,  if  such  it  might 
be  called.  Every  one,  from  the  most  daring 
"ace"  to  the  humblest  kitchen  helper  in  the 
camp,  was  anxious  for  the  day  when  it  could 
be  said  that  the  gun  was  out  of  commission, 
or  guns,  if,  as  was  likely,  there  was  more  than 
one.  But  the  men  in  command  knew  the  value 
of  thoroughness.  There  must  be  no  failure 
through  lack  of  making  proper  plans. 

But  at  last  everything  was  in  readiness.  The 
planes  had  been  tested,  keyed  up,  and  the 
motors  run  until  every  part  of  them  was  hum- 
ming like  a  top.  Each  man  felt  confidence,  not 
only  in  himself  but  in  his  craft,  and  that  meant 
much.  There  were  several  types  for  the  fliers 
to  use,  single-seaters,  the  big  bombing  craft, 
those  equipped  for  slow  flying  and  from  which 


144  SEEKING  THE  GUN 

photographs  were  to  be  taken,  as  well  as  others. 
The  taking  of  photographs  was  expected  to 
help  in  revealing  the  position  of  the  hidden  gun. 

The  big  Italian  plane  was  not  ready,  it 
seemed,  to  be  used,  but  it  would  be  soon,  it 
was  said. 

Then  came  the  day  and  the  hour  when  cer- 
tain members  of  the  picked  squadron  were  to 
take  the  air  to  look  for  the  gun.  Tom  and  Jack, 
to  their  delight,  were  selected  to  go. 

"What  a  chance!"  exclaimed  Jack,  as  he 
climbed  into  his  machine,  and  saw  that  he  had 
plenty  of  ammunition  for  the  Lewis  gun. 

"I  hope  we  can  make  good !"  returned  Tom. 

Then  they  were  away  and  up,  seeking  to  find 
the  monster  cannon  that  was  bringing  the  war 
into  the  heart  of  Paris. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

A  CLOUD  2ATTLE 

FOR  some  little  time  the  picked  squadron  that 
was  intrusted  with  the  difficult  and  dangerous 
task  of  locating  the  big  German  gun  flew  over 
the  French  lines.  Below  them  Tom  and  Jack 
could  make  out  various  French  camps,  the  front 
and  supporting  lines  of  trenches,  and  various 
other  military  works.  They  could  see  a  brisk 
artillery  duel  going  on  at  one  point.  They  noted 
the  puffs  of  smoke,  but  of  course  could  not  hear 
the  explosions,  as  their  own  motors  were  mak- 
ing too  much  noise. 

Tom  and  Jack  kept  within  sight  of  one  an- 
other, and  also  within  view  of  their  comrades. 
Each  plane  was  marked  with  a  big  number  so 
it  could  be  distinguished,  for  the  aviators  them- 
selves were  so  wrapped  in  fleece-lined  clothes, 
so  attired  in  gauntlets,  goggles  and  fur  boots, 
as  protection  against  the  terrible  cold  of  the 
upper  regions,  that  one's  closest  friend  would 
not  recognize  him  at  a  near  view. 

It  was  the  object  of  this  first  scouting  expedi- 
tion to  make  a  preliminary  observation  over  as 
wide  a  range  of  the  enemy's  country  as  possible. 

145 


146  A  CLOUD  BATTLE 

While  it  was  hoped  that  the  location  of  the  big 
gun  might  be  spied  out,  it  was  almost  too  much 
to  expect  to  pick  out  the  spot  at  the  first  trial. 
The  Germans  were  keen  and  wary,  and  un- 
doubtedly they  would  have  laid  their  plans  well. 

"Well,  I  don't  see  any  of  'em  coming  out  to 
dispute  our  passage,"  thought  Tom,  as  he 
looked  at  his  controls  and  noted  by  his  height 
gage  that  he  was  now  up  about  two  miles. 
"There  isn't  a  Boche  plane  in  sight." 

And  the  same  thing  was  observed  by  Jack 
and  the  other  fliers.  The  Germans  seemed  to 
be  keeping  down,  or  else  were  higher  up,  or 
perhaps  hidden  by  some  cloud  bank. 

That  was  another  hazard  of  the  air.  Going 
into  a  cloud,  or  above  it  might  mean,  on  coming 
out,  that  one  would  find  himself  in  the  midst 
of  enemies. 

It  is  a  life  full  of  dangers  and  surprises.  It  is 
this  which  makes  it  so  appealing  to  the  young 
and  brave. 

On  and  on  flew  the  Allied  planes,  and  the 
eager  eyes  of  the  pilots  were  alternately  directed 
toward  the  earth  and  then  ahead  of  them,  and 
upward  to  discern  the  first  sight  of  a  Hun 
machine,  if  such  should  venture  out. 

The  fliers  were  now  well  over  the  German 
lines,  and  the  batteries  from  below  began  firing 
at  them.  This  was  to  be  expected,  and  Tom, 


A  CLOUD  BATTLE  147 

Jack  and  the  others  had  gotten  used  to  the 
bursts  of  shrapnel  all  around  them.  They  could 
see  the  puffs  of  smoke  where  the  shells  burst, 
but  they  could  hear  no  sounds. 

"The  'Archies'  are  busy  this  morning," 
thought  Jack,  as  he  noted  the  firing  from  below, 
and  using  the  French  slang  word  for  the  Ger- 
man anti-aircraft  guns. 

He  took  a  quick  glance  toward  Tom's 
machine  to  make  sure  his  chum,  so  far,  was  all 
right.  Assured  on  this  point  Jack  looked  to 
his  own  craft. 

"Well,"  he  mused,  "at  this  point  the  'flaming 
onions'  can't  get  us,  but  they  may  pot  us  as 
we  go  down,  as  we'll  have  to  if  we  want  to  get 
a  good  view  of  the  ground  where  the  big  gun 
may  be  hidden." 

The  "flaming  onions,"  referred  to  by  Jack, 
were  rockets  shot  from  a  ground  mortar.  They 
have  a  range  of  about  a  mile,  and  when  a  series 
of  them  are  shot  upward  in  the  direction  of  a 
hostile  plane  it  is  no  easy  matter  for  the  aviator 
to  pass  through  this  "barrage."  Once  a  "flam- 
ing onion"  touches  an  aeroplane  the  craft  is  set 
on  fire,  and  then,  unless  a  miracle  happens,  the 
aviator  falls  to  his  death. 

The  German  gunners,  however,  could  not  use 
these  to  advantage  while  the  French  plane?  Vept 
so  high  up,  though  the  shrapnel  was  a  menace, 


I48  rA  CLOUD  BATTLE 

for  the  Hun  guns  shot  far  and  with  excellent 
aim.  A  number  of  the  scout  machines  were  hit, 
Tom's  receiving  three  bullets  through  the 
wings,  while  Jack's  engine  was  nicked  once  or 
twice,  though  with  no  serious  damage. 

But  as  for  the  German  planes  they  declined 
the  combat  that  was  offered  them.  Probably 
they  had  different  plans  in  view.  It  soon  became 
evident  to  Tom,  Jack  and  the  others  that  to 
fly  at  that  height  meant  discovering  nothing 
down  below.  The  distance  was  too  great.  The 
big  gun  might  be  hidden  almost  anywhere  below 
them,  but  until  it  was  fired,  disclosing  its  pres- 
ence by  an  unusual  volume  of  smoke,  it  would 
not  be  discovered.  Also  its  fire  might  be 
camouflaged  by  a  salvo  from  a  protecting  bat- 
tery. 

"It's  about  time  he  did  that,"  said  Tom  to 
himself  at  last,  as  he  noticed  Cerfe,  who  was  the 
leader  of  the  air  squadron,  dip  his  plane  in  a 
certain  way,  which  was  the  signal  for  going 
down.  "We've  got  to  get  lower  if  we  want  to 
see  anything,"  the  young  aviator  went  on. 
"Though  they  may  pot  some  of  us." 

Down  they  went,  flying  comparatively  low 
but  at  great  speed  in  order  to  offer  less  of  a 
target  to  the  gunners  below  them.  And,  follow- 
ing instructions,  each  pilot  noted  carefully  the 
section  of  the  German  trenches  beneath  him, 


A  CLOUD  BATTLE  149 

and  the  area  back  of  them.  They  were  seeking 
the  big  gun. 

But,  though  they  looked  carefully,  it  could 
not  be  seen,  and  finally  when  one  of  the  French 
machines  was  badly  hit,  and  the  pilot  wounded, 
so  that  he  had  to  turn  back  toward  his  own 
lines,  Cerfe  gave  the  signal  for  the  return. 

In  all  this  time  not  a  Hun  plane  had  come 
out  to  give  battle.  What  the  reason  for  this 
was  could  only  be  guessed  at.  It  may  have  been 
that  none  of  the  German  machines  was  avail- 
able, or  that  skillful  pilots,  capable  of  sustaining 
a  fight  with  the  veterans  of  the  French,  were 
not  on  hand  just  then.  However  that  may  have 
been,  Tom,  Jack  and  the  others,  after  firing  a 
few  rounds  from  their  machine  guns  at  the 
trenches,  though  without  hope  of  doing  much 
damage,  turned  back  toward  Camp  Lincoln. 

"Well,  then  you  did  not  discover  anything?" 
asked  Major  de  Trouville,  who  had  been  trans- 
ferred and  given  the  command  at  Camp  Lincoln. 

"Nothing,"  answered  Jack. 

"If  it's  in  the  section  we  covered,  it  is  well 
hidden,"  added  Tom. 

"And  I  think,  don't  you  know,"  went  on  the 
Englishman,  Haught,  "that  the  only  way  we'll 
be  able  to  hit  on  the  bally  mortar  is  to  fly  low 
and  take  photographs." 

"That's  my  idea,"  said  the  major.  "If  we  take 


ISO  A  CLOUD  BATTLE 

a  series  of  photographs  we  can  develop  them, 
enlarge  them,  if  necessary,  and  examine  them 
at  our  leisure.  I  had  thought  of  this,  but  it's 
a  slow  plan,  and  it  means — casualties.  But  I 
suppose  that  can't  be  avoided.  But  I  wanted 
to  try  the  scouting  machines  first. 

"After  all,  the  taking  of  photographs  from 
the  air  of  the  enemy  trenches  and  the  land 
behind  them  is  a  most  valuable  method  of 
getting  information,"  he  continued. 

Men,  specially  trained  for  such  observation 
work,  examine  the  photographs  after  the  avi- 
ators return  with  the  films,  and  they  can  tell, 
by  signs  that  an  ordinary  person  would  pass 
over,  whether  there  is  a  new  battery  camou- 
flaged in  the  vicinity,  whether  preparations  are 
under  way  for  receiving  a  large  number  of 
troops,  or  whether  a  general  advance  is  con- 
templated. Then  measures  to  oppose  this  can 
be  started.  So,  Major  de  Trouville  was  right, 
photography  forms  a  valuable  part  of  the  new 
warfare. 

The  photographing  of  the  enemy  positions  is 
done  in  big,  heavy  machines,  carrying  two  men. 
They  must  fly  comparatively  low,  and  have  not 
much  speed,  though  they  are  armed,  and  it 
takes  considerable  of  an  attack  to  bring  them 
down.  But  of  course  the  pilot  and  his  observer 
are  in  danger,  and,  to  protect  them  as  much  as 


A  CLOUD  BATTLE  151 

possible,  scout  planes  —  the  single-seat  Nieuports 
—  are  sent  out  in  squadrons  to  hover  about  and 
give  battle  to  the  German  aircraft  that  come 
out  to  drive  off  the  photographers. 

"We'll  undertake  that,"  proceeded  Major  de 
Trouville.  "I'll  order  the  big  machine  to  get 
ready  for  an  attempt  to-morrow  at  locating  the 


"Is  it  stiil  shooting?"  asked  Jack. 

"Yes,  it  has  just  been  bombarding  Paris;  but 
I  have  no  reports  yet  as  to  the  damage  done." 

"Aren't  we  doing  anything  at  all?"  asked 
Tom. 

"Oh,  yes,  our  batteries  are  keeping  up  a  fire 
on  the  German  lines  along  the  front  behind 
which  we  think  the  gun  is  concealed,  but  what 
the  results  are  yet,  we  don't  know." 

"Well,  let's  hope  for  clear  weather  to-mor- 
row,'' suggested  Boughton. 

The  intervening  time  was  occupied  by  the 
aviators  in  getting  everything  in  readiness. 
The  machines  were  inspected,  the  automatic 
guns  gone  over,  and  nothing  left  undone  that 
could  be  thought  of  to  give  success. 

The  next  day  dawned  clear  and  bright,  and, 
as  soon  as  it  was  light  enough  to  make  success- 
ful photographs,  the  big  machine  set  out,  while 
hovering  above  and  to  either  side  of  it  were 
several  Nieuports.  Tom  and  Jack  were  each 


152  'A  CLOUD  BATTLE 

occupying  one  of  these,  ready  to  give  battle  to 
the  Huns  above  or  below  the  clouds. 

In  order  to  distract  the  attention  of  the  Ger- 
mans as  much  as  possible  from  the  direct  front 
where  the  airships  were  to  cross  the  lines,  a 
violent  artillery  fire  was  maintained  on  either 
flank.  To  this  the  Germans  replied,  perhaps 
thinking  an  engagement  was  pending.  And  so, 
amid  the  roar  of  big  guns,  the  flying  squadron 
got  off. 

"Now  we'll  see  what  luck  we'll  have,"  mused 
Tom,  as  he  drove  his  machine  forward,  being 
one  of  the  large  aerial  "V"  that  had  for  its 
angle  the  ponderous  photographing  bi-motored 
machine. 

Over  the  German  lines  they  flew,  and  then 
the  Germans  awoke  to  the  necessity  of  ignoring 
the  fire  on  their  flanks  and  began  shooting  at 
the  airships  over  their  heads. 

"This  ought  to  bring  out  their  pilots  if  they 
have  any  sporting  blood,"  thought  Jack. 

And  it  did.  The  French  and  their  allies  were 
no  more  than  well  over  German-occupied  terri- 
tory, before  a  whole  German  air  fleet  swarmed 
up  and  advanced  to  give  battle.  They  flew  high, 
intending  to  get  above  their  enemies,  and  so 
in  the  most  favorable  fighting  position.  But 
Tom,  Jack  and  the  others  saw  this,  and  also 
began  to  elevate  their  planes. 


A  CLOUD  BATTLE  153 

"We  certainly  are  going  up !"  mused  Tom,  as 
he  noted  the  needle  of  his  height  gage  showing 
an  altitude  of  twelve  thousand  feet.  "When 
are  they  going  to  stop  ?  We're  high  above  the 
clouds  now." 

That  was  true  as  regarded  himself,  Jack,  and 
two  other  French  planes.  But  still  the  Germans 
climbed.  Doubtless  some  of  them  were  engag' 
ing  the  big  machine  which  was  low  down,  trying 
to  take  photographs,  but  Cerfe  and  Boughton 
were  guarding  that. 

"Here  comes  one  at  me,  anyhow!"  thought 
Tom,  as  he  saw  a  Hun  machine  headed  for  him. 

"Well,  the  sooner  it's  over  the  better.  Here 
goes !"  and  he  pressed  the  release  of  his  auto- 
matic gun,  meanwhile  heading  his  craft  full  at 
the  German  to  direct  the  fire,  for  that  is  how 
the  guns  are  aimed  in  a  Nieuport,  the  gun  being 
stationary. 

And  so  began  the  battle  above  the  clouds. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

QUEER   LIGHTS 

TOM  RAYMOND'S  first  few  shots  went  wild,  as 
he  noted  by  the  tracer  bullets.  Then,  steering 
his  machine  with  his  feet,  he  brought  it  around 
a  trifle,  and,  having  by  a  quick  action  risen 
above  his  antagonist,  he  let  him  have  a  good 
round,  full  in  the  face.  The  result  was  dis- 
astrous to  the  German,  for  suddenly  the  Hun 
machine  burst  into  flames,  the  gasolene  from 
the  punctured  tank  burning  fiercely,  and  down 
it  went  a  flaming  torch  of  death. 

Tom  felt  some  bullets  whistle  around  him, 
and  one  exploded  as  it  struck  part  of  his  engine, 
but  without  injuring  it. 

"Explosive  bullets,  are  they?"  mused  the 
young  aviator.  "Against  all  the  rules  of  civil- 
ized warfare.  Well,  he  won't  shoot  any  more," 
he  thought  grimly. 

But  though  Tom  had  come  victorious  from 
his  engagement  with  his  single  antagonist,  he 
had  no  sooner  straightened  out  and  begun  to 
take  stock  of  the  situation,  than  he  became 
aware  that  he  was  in  great  danger.  Above  him, 
and  coming  at  him  with  the  swiftness  of  the 

154 


QUEER  LIGHTS  155 

wind,  were  two  speedy  German  machines,  bent 
on  his  destruction. 

They  were  both  firing  at  him,  the  angles  of 
attack  converging,  so  that  if  one  missed  him 
the  other  would  probably  get  him. 

"I've  got  to  get  out  of  this,"  Tom  reasoned. 
He  headed  his  plane  toward  the  antagonist  on 
his  right,  shooting  upward  and  firing  as  rapidly 
as  he  could,  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
the  German  swerve  to  one  side.  The  fire  was 
too  hot  for  his  liking. 

The  other,  however,  came  on  and  sent  such 
a  burst  of  fire  at  Tom  that  the  latter  realized 
it  was  a  desperate  chance  he  was  taking.  He 
tried  to  get  above  his  enemy,  but  the  other's 
plane  was  the  speedier  of  the  two,  and  he  held 
the  advantage. 

Tom's  ammunition  was  running  low,  and  he 
realized  that  he  must  do  something.  He  de- 
cided to  take  a  leaf  out  of  the  book  of  the 
Germans. 

"I'll  go  down  in  a  spinning  nose  dive,"  he 
reasoned.  "They'll  be  less  likely  to  hit  me  then. 
I'll  have  to  go  back,  I  guess,  and  get  some 
more  shots.  I  used  more  than  I  thought." 

He  sent  his  last  drum  at  the  persistent  Ger- 
man, and,  noting  that  the  other  was  swooping 
around  to  attack  again,  went  into  the  danger- 
ous spinning  nose  dive. 


156  QUEER  LIGHTS 

The  Germans  may  have  thought  they  had 
disabled  their  antagonist,  for  this  dive  is  one 
a  machine  often  takes  when  the  pilot  has  lost 
control.  But  in  this  case  Tom  still  retained  it, 
and  when  he  had  dropped  out  of  the  danger 
zone,  he  prepared  to  straighten  out  and  fly  back 
over  his  own  lines. 

It  is  not  easy  to  straighten  an  airplane  after 
such  a  dive,  and  for  a  moment  Tom  was  not 
sure  that  he  could  do  it.  Often  the  strain  of 
this  nose  dive,  when  the  machine  is  speeding 
earthward,  impelled  not  only  by  its  propellers, 
but  by  the  attraction  of  gravitation,  is  so  great 
as  to  tear  off  the  wings  or  to  crumple  them. 
But  after  one  sickening  moment,  when  the  craft 
seemed  indisposed  to  obey  him,  Tom  felt  it 
beginning  to  right  itself,  and  then  he  started  to 
sail  toward  the  French  lines. 

He  was  not  out  of  danger  yet,  though  he 
was  far  enough  away  from  the  two  German 
machines.  But  he  was  so  low  that  he  was 
within  range  of  the  German  anti-aircraft  guns, 
and  straightway  they  began  shooting  at  him. 

To  add  to  his  troubles  his  engine  began  miss- 
ing, and  he  realized  that  it  had  sustained  some 
damage  that  might  make  it  stop  any  moment. 
And  he  still  had  several  miles  to  travel! 

But  he  opened  up  full,  and  though  the  miss- 
ing became  more  frequent  he  managed  to  keep 


QUEER  LIGHTS  157 

the  motor  going  until  he  was  in  a  position  to 
volplane  down  inside  his  own  lines,  where  he 
was  received  with  cheers  by  his  comrades  of 
the  camp. 

"How  goes  it?"  asked  Major  de  Trouville 
anxiously. 

"I  think  we  are  holding  them  off,"  said  Tom. 

He  was  the  first  one  who  had  had  to  return, 
much  to  his  chagrin.  He  leaped  out  of  his 
craft,  and  was  about  to  ask  for  another  to  go 
back  and  renew  the  battle  of  the  clouds,  when 
he  saw  the  big  photographing  machine  return- 
ing, accompanied  by  all  but  two  of  the  escort- 
ing craft. 

"A  pair  missing,"  murmured  the  major,  as  he 
searched  the  sky  with  his  glasses. 

And  Tom  wondered  if  Jack's  machine  was 
among  those  that  had  not  headed  back. 

Eagerly  he  procured  a  pair  of  binoculars,  and 
when  he  had  them  focused  he  identified  one 
machine  after  another,  at  last  picking  out  his 
chum's.  It  did  not  seem  to  be  damaged. 

But  two  of  the  French  craft  had  been 
brought  down — one  in  flames,  the  report  had 
it,  and  the  other  out  of  control,  and  both  fell 
within  the  German  lines. 

"Did  you  get  any  photographs  of  the  big 
gun?"  asked  the  major,  when  the  men  in  the 
double  machine  had  made  a  landing. 


158  QUEER  LIGHTS 

"We  got  lots  of  views,"  answered  the  pho- 
tographer, "but  what  they  show  we  can't  say. 
As  far  as  having  seen  the  gun  goes,  we  didn't 
spot  it." 

"Well,  maybe  the  photographs  will  reveal  it," 
suggested  the  major.  "Ah,  but  I  am  sorry  for 
the  two  that  are  lost !" 

Jack's  experience  had  been  less  exciting  than 
Tom's.  One  machine  had  attacked  the  former, 
and  there  had  been  a  hot  engagement  for  a 
while,  but  the  German  had  finally  withdrawn, 
though  to  what  extent  he  was  wounded  or  his 
machine  damaged  Jack  did  not  know. 

However,  the  picked  squadron  had  reason  to 
feel  satisfied  with  their  efforts.  All  now  de- 
pended on  the  developing  of  the  photographs, 
and  this  was  quickly  done.  For  this  part  of 
warfare  is  now  regarded  as  so  important  that 
it  is  possible  for  a  plane  to  fly  over  an  enemy's 
station,  take  photographs  and  have  prints  in 
the  hands  of  the  commanding  officer  inside  of 
an  hour,  if  all  goes  well. 

Carefully  the  photographs  were  examined  by 
men  expert  in  such  matters.  Eagerly  they 
looked  to  discover  some  signs  of  the  emplace- 
ment of  the  big  gun.  But  one  after  another  of 
the  experts  shook  his  head. 

"Nothing  there,"  was  the  verdict 

"Then   we've    got   to    try   again,"   decided 


QUEER  LIGHTS  159 

Major  de  Trouville.  "We  must  find  that  gun 
and  destroy  it!" 

"Well,  we're  ready/'  announced  Tom,  and 
the  others  of  the  picked  squadron  nodded  in 
assent. 

And  then  began  an  organized  campaign  to 
locate  the  monster  cannon.  It  continued  to  fire 
on  Paris  at  intervals.  Then  three  days  went  by 
without  any  shells  falling,  and  the  rumor  be- 
came current  that  the  gun  had  burst.  If  this 
had  happened,  there  was  another,  or  more,  to 
take  its  place,  for  again  the  bombarding  of  the 
city  began. 

Meanwhile  the  air  scouts  did  their  best  to 
find  the  place  of  the  firing.  Hundreds  of  photo- 
graphs were  taken,  and  brave  scouts  risked 
death  more  than  once  in  flying  low  over  sus- 
pected territory.  But  all  to  no  purpose.  Sev- 
eral were  killed,  but  others  took  their  places. 
Jack  was  hit  and  so  badly  wounded  that  he  was 
two  weeks  in  the  hospital.  But  when  he  came 
out  he  was  again  ready  to  join  Tom  in  the 
search. 

No  word  came  as  to  the  whereabouts  of 
Bessie  and  her  mother,  nor  did  Tom  hear  any- 
thing of  his  father.  The  lack  of  information 
was  getting  on  the  nerves  of  both  boys,  but 
they  dared  not  stop  to  think  about  that,  for  the 
army  needed  their  best  efforts  as  scouts  of  the 


160  QUEER  LIGHTS 

air,  and  they  gave  such  service  gladly  and 
freely. 

Every  possible  device  was  tried  to  find  the 
location  of  the  German  gun,  and  numerous 
battles  above  the  clouds  resulted  at  different 
times  during  the  scout  work. 

On  the  whole  the  advantage  in  these  conflicts 
lay  with  the  armies  of  the  Allies,  the  Germans 
being  punished  severely.  Once  a  German  plane 
was  brought  down  within  the  French  lines,  and 
its  pilot  made  a  prisoner. 

It  was  hoped  that  some  information  might  be 
gotten  out  of  the  German  airman  that  would 
lead  to  the  discovery  of  the  big  gun,  but, 
naturally,  he  did  not  reveal  the  secret;  and  no 
more  pressure  was  brought  to  bear  on  him  in 
this  matter  than  was  legitimate.  The  hiding 
place  of  the  gun  remained  a  secret. 

Its  possible  size  and  the  nature  of  its  shoot- 
ing was  discussed  every  day  by  Tom,  Jack  and 
their  comrades.  In  order  to  make  a  cannon 
shoot  a  distance  of  about  eighty  miles  it  was 
known  that  it  was  necessary  to  get  the  maxi- 
mum elevation  of  forty-five  degrees.  It  was 
also  calculated  that  the  shell  must  describe  a 
trajectory  the  highest  point  in  the  curve  of 
which  must  be  thirty-five  miles  or  more  above 
the  earth.  In  other  words  the  German  cannon 
had  to  shoot  in  a  curve  thirty-five  miles  upward 


QUEER  LIGHTS  161 

to  have  the  missile  fly  to  Paris.  Of  course  at 
that  height  there  was  very  little  air  resistance, 
which  probably  accounted  for  the  ability  of  the 
missile  to  go  so  far.  That,  and  the  sub-calibre 
shell,  made  the  seemingly  impossible  come 
within  the  range  of  possibility. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  Tom?"  asked 
Jack  one  evening,  after  an  unsuccessful  day's 
flight.  For  Tom  was  going  toward  his  hangar. 

"Going  up." 

"What  for?"  Jack  went  on. 

"Oh,  no  reason  in  particular.  I  just  feel  like 
flying.  We  didn't  do  much  to-day.  Had  to 
come  back  on  account  of  mist,  and  we  didn't 
see  enough  to  pay  for  the  petrol  used.  Want 
to  come  along?" 

"Oh,  I  might,  yes." 

Tom  and  Jack  went  up,  as  did  several  more. 
But  the  two  remained  up  longer  than  did  the 
others,  and  Jack  was  somewhat  surprised  to  see 
his  chum  suddenly  head  for  the  German  lines, 
but  at  an  angle  that  would  take  him  over  them 
well  to  the  south  of  where  the  observation  work 
had  been  carried  on. 

"I  wonder  what  he's  up  to,"  mused  Jack. 
"Guess  I'd  better  follow  and  see." 

There  was  not  much  chance  of  an  aerial  battle 
at  that  hour,  for  dusk  was  coming  on.  There 
had  been  no  bombing  squadron  sent  out,  which 


162  QUEER  LIGHTS 

would  have  accounted  for  Tom  going  to  meet 
them,  and  Jack  wondered  greatly  at  his  chum's 
action. 

Still  there  was  no  way  of  asking  questions 
just  then,  and  Jack  followed  his  friend.  They 
sailed  over  the  German  lines  at  a  good  height, 
and  Jack  could  keep  Tom  in  view  by  noting  the 
lights  on  his  plane. 

These  were  also  seen  by  the  Germans  below, 
and  the  anti-aircraft  guns  began  their  concert, 
but  without  noticeable  effect.  None  of  the  Hun 
airmen  seemed  disposed  to  accept  a  challenge 
to  fight,  so  Tom  and  Jack  had  the  upper  air  to 
themselves. 

Below  them  the  boys  could  see  flashes  of  fire 
as  the  various  guns  were  discharged;  and  at 
one  point  in  the  lines  there  was  quite  an 
artillery  duel,  the  French  batteries  sending  over 
a  shower  of  high  explosive  shells  in  answer  to 
the  challenge  from  the  Bodies. 

It  was  not  until  Jack  had  followed  his  chum 
back  to  Camp  Lincoln,  and  they  had  made  a 
landing,  that  a  conversation  ensued  which  was 
destined  to  have  momentous  effect. 

"Jack,  did  you  notice  the  peculiar  colored 
lights  away  to  the  north  of  where  we  were 
flying?"  asked  Tom,  as  they  divested  them- 
selves of  their  fur  garments. 

"You  mean  the  orange  colored  flare,  that 


QUEER  LIGHTS  163 

turned  to  green  and  then  to  purple?"  asked 
Jack. 

"That's  it.  I  thought  you'd  see  it.  I  wonder 
what  it  means?" 

"Oh,  perhaps  some  signal  for  a  barrage  or 
an  attack.  Or  they  may  have  been  signaling 
another  battery  to  try  to  pot  us." 

"No,  I  hardly  think  so.  They  didn't  look  like 
signal  fires.  I  must  ask  Major  de  Trouville 
about  that." 

"What?"  inquired  the  major  himself,  who 
was  passing  and  who  heard  what  Tom  said. 

"Why,  we  noticed  some  peculiar  lights  as  we 
were  flying  over  the  German  lines  in  the  dark. 
There  was  an  orange  flare,  followed  by  a  green 
light  that  changed  to  purple,"  answered  Tom. 

"There  was!"  cried  the  major,  seemingly 
much  excited.  "You  don't  mean  it!  That's 
just  what  we've  been  hoping  to  see!  Come, 
you  must  tell  Laigney  about  this," 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE   BIG   GUN 

FOR  a  moment  Tom  and  Jack  did  not  quite 
know  what  to  make  of  the  excitement  of  Major 
de  Trouville.  And  excited  he  certainly  was 
beyond  a  doubt. 

"You  must  come  and  tell  this  to  Lieutenant 
Laigney  at  once,"  he  said.  "It  may  mean  some- 
thing important.  Are  you  sure  of  the  sequence 
of  the  colors?"  he  asked.  "That  makes  all  the 
difference." 

"There  was  first  an  orange  tint,"  said  Tom, 
"which  was  followed  by  green  and  purple,  the 
last  gradually  dying  out." 

"Orange,  green  and  purple,"  murmured  the 
major.  "Can  it  be  that  for  which  we  are  seek- 
ing?" 

He  hurried  along  with  the  boys,  seemingly 
forgetting,  in  his  haste  and  excitement,  that  he 
was  their  ranking  officer.  But,  as  has  been 
noted,  the  aviators  are  more  like  friends  and 
equals  than  officers  and  men.  There  is  dis- 
cipline, of  course,  but  there  is  none  of  the 
rigidity  seen  in  other  branches  of  the  army.  In 

164 


THE  BIG  GUN  165 

fact  the  very  nature  of  the  work  makes  for 
comradeship. 

Tom  and  Jack  knew,  slightly,  the  officer  to 
whom  Major  de  Trouville  referred.  Lieutenant 
Laigney  was  an  ordnance  expert,  and  the  in- 
ventor of  a  certain  explosive  just  beginning  to 
be  used  in  the  French  shells.  It  was  simple, 
but  very  powerful. 

"You  must  tell  him  what  you  observed — the 
strange  colored  lights,  my  boys,"  said  the 
major.  "By  the  way,  I  hope  you  carefully 
noted  the  time  of  the  colored  flares." 

Tom  and  Jack  had.  That  was  part  of  their 
training,  to  keep  a  note  of  extraordinary  hap- 
penings and  tlie  time.  Often  seemingly  slight 
matters  have  an  important  bearing  on  the 
future. 

They  found  Lieutenant  Laigney  in  his  quar- 
ters, making  what  seemed  to  be  some  intricate 
calculations.  He  saluted  the  major  and  nodded 
to  the  boys,  whom  he  had  met  before. 

"Lieutenant,"  began  Major  de  Trouville, 
"these  young  gentlemen  have  something  to  tell 
you.  I  want  you  to  think  it  over  in  the  light  of 
what  you  told  me  about  the  action  of  that  new 
explosive  you  said  the  Germans  might  possibly 
be  using." 

"Very  good,  Major.  I  shall  be  delighted  to 
be  of  any  service  in  my  power,"  was  the  answer. 


166  THE  BIG  GUN 

Then  Tom  and  Jack  described  what  they  had 
seen,  giving  the  location  of  the  colored  lights 
as  nearly  as  they  could,  and  the  exact  time 
they  had  noted  them. 

"How  long  would  it  take  a  shell  to  reach 
Paris,  fired  at  a  distance  of  eighty  miles  from 
the  city?''  asked  the  major. 

The  lieutenant  made  some  calculations,  and 
announced  the  result  of  his  findings. 

"Then,"  went  on  the  commanding  officer,  "if 
a  shell  was  fired  from  the  big  gun,  say  at  the 
moment  when  these  two  scouts  observed  the 
tri-colored  fire,  it  should  have  reached  Paris  at 
seven-fifty-three  o'clock." 

"As  nearly  as  can  be  calculated,  not  knowing 
the  exact  speed  of  the  projectile,  yes,"  answered 
the  lieutenant. 

Major  de  Trouville  picked  up  the  telephone 
and  asked  to  be  connected  with  the  wireless 
station. 

"Have  you  had  any  reports  of  the  bombard- 
ing of  Paris  this  evening?"  he  asked.  "Yes? 
What  time  did  the  first,  or  any  particular  shell, 
arrive?  Ah,  yes,  thank  you.  That  is  all  at 
present." 

He  turned  to  the  others,  after  having  listened 
to  the  reply  and  put  the  instrument  away. 

"One  of  the  shells  exploded  in  a  Paris  street 
at  seven-fifty-two  o'clock  this  evening,"  he  said. 


THE  BIG  GUN  167 

"It  beat  your  calculations  by  one  minute,  Lieu- 
tenant Laigney." 

"Ah !  Then  this  means — "  and  the  younger 
officer  seemed  as  excited  as  the  major  had  been 
when  Tom  and  Jack  told  him  what  they  had 
seen. 

"It  means,"  finished  the  commanding  officer, 
"that,  in  all  likelihood,  these  young  men  have 
discovered  the  location  of  the  big  German 
cannon." 

"Discovered  it !"  cried  Jack.  "Why  we  didn't 
see  anything!" 

"Nothing  but  those  queer  lights,"  added 
Tom. 

Major  de  Trouville  smiled  at  them,  and  Lieu- 
tenant Laigney  nodded  his  head  in  assent. 

"Those  queer  lights,  as  you  call  them,"  said 
the  ordnance  expert,  "were  the  flashes  of  a  new 
explosive.  What  the  Germans  call  it  I  do  not 
know.  For  want  of  a  better  name  we  call  it 
Barlite,  from  the  name  of  Professor  Barcello, 
one  of  our  experimenters,  who  discovered  it. 
But  a  spy  stole  the  secret  and  gave  it  to  Ger- 
many. They  must  have  managed  to  perfect  it, 
though  we  have  not  used  it  as  yet,  owing  to 
the  difficulty  in  constructing  a  gun  strong 
enough  to  withstand  its  terrific  power." 

"And  do  you  mean  they're  using  this  explo- 
sive in  the  big  German  gun?"  asked  Jack. 


168  THE  BIG  GUN 

"And  that  we  really  saw  it  being  fired  ?"  cried 
Tom. 

"That  is  my  belief,"  said  the  lieutenant 
"This  explosive  burns,  when  fired  from  a  gun, 
first  with  an  orange  flame,  changing  to  green 
and  then  to  purple,  as  the  various  gases  are 
given  off." 

"Those  are  the  very  colors  we  saw!"  ex- 
claimed Jack. 

"Yes,"  went  on  Major  de  Trouville.  "And 
when  I  heard  you  mention  them,  and  when  I 
recalled  that  Lieutenant  Laigney  had  spoken 
of  a  certain  explosive  that  gave  off  a  tri-colored 
light,  I  suspected  you  had  hit  on  the  German 
secret." 

"And  do  you  believe  we  actually  saw  the 
giant  cannon  being  fired  at  Paris?"  asked  Tom. 

"Without  a  doubt.  The  time  of  the  arrival 
of  one  of  the  shells  coincides  almost  to  the 
minute  with  the  time  that  would  elapse  after 
the  missile  was  sent  on  its  way,  and  this  was 
when  you  saw  the  queer  flashes.  You  have 
discovered  the  area  where  the  big  gun  is  placed. 
All  that  is  needed  now  are  some  exact  observa- 
tions to  give  us  the  exact  spot." 

"And  then  we  can  destroy  it  1"  cried  the  lieu- 
tenant. <:Then  the  menace  to  beloved  Paris 
will  have  passed !" 

"And  thanks  to  our  brave  American  friends !" 


THE  BIG  GUN  169 

cried  the  major,  shaking  hands  with  Tom  and 
Jack.  "You  will  win  promotion  for  this!"  he 
murmured. 

"But  the  big  gun  isn't  found  yet,"  said  Jack. 

"Why,  if  you  are  right,  sir,"  Tom  said  to  the 
major,  "the  shells  must  pass  right  over  our 
camp." 

"They  probably  do.  But  at  so  far  above  — 
several  miles  up  so  as  to  reach  the  height  of 
thirty-five — that  we  never  know  it.  We  neither 
see  them  nor  hear  them.  Boys,  I  believe  you 
have  located  the  big  gun!  All  that  now  re- 
mains is  to  destroy  it !" 


CHAPTER  XXI 

DEVASTATING   FIRE 

MODESTLY  enough  Tom  and  Jack  took  the 
new  honors  that  came  to  them.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  they  were  in  no  wise  sure  that  they  had 
discovered  the  location  of  the  German  giant 
cannon.  It  was  all  well  enough  to  come  in  and 
report  seeing  some  strange-colored  flares  of 
fire.  But  Tom  and  Jack  felt  that  they  wanted 
to  see  a  thing  with  their  own  eyes  before  surely 
believing. 

Of  course,  though,  the  French  experts  knew 
about  what  they  were  talking,  and  the  major 
and  the  lieutenant  seemed  very  sure  of  their 
ground. 

"I  only  hope  we  have  had  the  good  luck  to 
have  spotted  the  beasts'  machine,"  said  Tom. 

"You  will  have  the  honor  of  proving  it  to 
yourselves  in  the  morning,"  Major  de  Trouville 
told  them.  "You  shall  accompany  the  first 
scouting  party  that  goes  out.  We  will  send 
out  two  photographing  machines,  and  enough 
of  a  squadron  to  meet  anything  the  Huns  can 
put  forth.  Paris  shall  be  delivered  from  the 
Boche  pests!" 

170 


DEVASTATING  FIRE  171 

"We'll  do  our  best,"   said  Tom,  and  Jack 

nodded  in  agreement. 

It  did  not  take  long  for  the  news  to  spread 
about  Camp  Lincoln  that  the  two  young  United 
States  aviators  had,  very  probably,  discovered 
by  accident  the  big  German  gun. 

And  in  telling  what  they  had  seen  Tom  and 
Jack  remarked  that  the  peculiar  tri-colored  fire 
had  been  in  the  midst  of  other  flashes  of  flame, 
and,  doubtless,  smoke,  but  that  could  not  be 
seen  on  account  of  the  darkness. 

"The  other  flashes  were  probably  guns  fired 
to  camouflage  the  flash  from  the  giant  cannon, 
or  possibly  cannons,"  observed  Major  de  Tiou- 
ville.  "But  we  shall  see  what  to-morrow  brings 
forth." 

The  hours  of  the  night  seemed  long,  but 
there  was  much  to  do  to  get  ready  for  the  next 
day's  operations.  More  aviators  were  sent  for, 
and  the  men  of  the  air  spent  many  hours  tuning 
up  their  motors  and  seeing  to  their  gurs  while 
the  big  machines,  which  it  was  hoped  could 
take  pictures  of  the  giant  cannon's  position, 
were  gone  over  carefully. 

In  addition  some  powerful  French  guns  were 
brought  up — some  of  the  longest  range  guns 
available,  and  it  was  hoped  that  the  big  aero- 
planes might  signal  by  wireless  the  exact  loca- 
tion of  the  suger-gun,  so  that  a  devastating  fire 


172  DEVASTATING  FIRE 

could  be  poured  on  it,  as  well  as  bombs  be 
dropped  from  some  machines  especially  fitted 
for  that  work. 

Camp  Lincoln,  where  the  picked  squadron 
was  situated,  was  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Soissons,  France,  in  a  sector  held  by  the  French 
troops.  The  lines  of  German  and  French 
trenches,  with  No  Man's  Land  h;  between,  was 
about  ten  miles  to  the  east  of  this  point.  This 
section  had  changed  hands  twice,  once  being 
occupied  by  the  Germans,  and  then  abandoned 
by  them  when  they  made  the  great  withdrawal. 

Now,  perhaps  ten  miles  back  of  the  German 
trenches,  the  great  gun  was  hidden,  making  its 
total  distance  from  Paris  about  eighty  miles, 
but  its  distance  from  Camp  Lincoln  something 
less  than  twenty  miles. 

Modern  guns  easily  shoot  that  distance,  but 
the  commander  of  the  forces  in  this  section  was 
going  to  shorten  that.  Soissons  was  the  nearest 
large  city  to  the  camp.  As  a  matter  of  fact  the 
air  squadron  was  some  distance  east  of  that 
place,  and  nearer  the  battleline.  So  that  it 
was  comparatively  easy,  once  the  location  of 
the  big  gun  was  known,  to  bring  up  heavy 
artillery  behind  the  French  lines  to  batter  away 
at  its  emplacement. 

After  a  night  of  arduous  labor,  during  which 
there  was  anxiety  lest  the  Germans  find  out 


DEVASTATING  FIRE  173 

what  was  going  on,  morning  broke,  and  to  the 
relief  of  all  it  was  bright. 

There  was  an  early  breakfast,  and  then  the 
aviators'  helpers  wheeled  the  machines  from  the 
hangars.  Several  big  photographing  craft  were 
in  readiness,  and  ten  bombing  planes  were  in 
reserve. 

Major  de  Trouville  inspected  his  brave  men. 
They  were  as  eager  as  dogs  on  the  leash  to  be 
off  and  at  the  throat  of  the  Huns.  A  wireless 
message  from  Paris  had  come  in  soon  after 
breakfast,  stating  that  nearly  a  score  had  been 
killed  in  the  capital  the  previous  night  by  fire 
from  the  "Bertha." 

"And  it's  up  to  us  to  avenge  them  1"  exclaimed 
Jack. 

"That  is  what  we'll  do  if  we  have  any  luck !" 
added  Tom  grimly. 

There  was  a  last  consultation  of  the  officers, 
instructions  were  gone  over,  and  everything 
possible  done  to  insure  success.  The  moment 
a  big  gun  was  sighted,  the  signal  was  to  be 
given  and  the  French  long-range  cannon  would 
open  fire,  while  the  bombing  machines  would 
also  do  their  part. 

"All  ready !  Go !"  called  the  major,  and  there 
was  a  rattle  and  a  roar  that  drowned  his  last 
word.  The  men  of  the  air  were  off. 

Led  by  Tom  and  Jack,  the  others  followed. 


174  DEVASTATING  FIRE 

Up  and  up  they  arose,  the  smaller  planes  flying 
high  as  a  protection  to  the  more  cumbersome 
machines  of  the  bi-motored  type.  And  soon  the 
squadron,  the  largest  that  had  yet  ascended 
from  Camp  Lincoln,  was  hovering  over  the 
German  lines. 

The  Huns  seemed  to  realize  that  something 
more  than  an  ordinary  attack  from  the  air  was 
impending,  for  soon  after  the  anti-aircraft  guns 
began  firing  a  swarm  of  German  aviators  took 
the  air,  and  there  was  no  shirking  battle  this 
time.  The  Huns  so  evidently  felt  the  desperate 
need  of  driving  away  their  attackers,  that  this, 
more  than  what  the  major  and  lieutenant  had 
said,  convinced  Tom  and  Jack  that  they  were 
at  last  on  the  track  of  the  big  gun. 

Of  course  the  two  boys  could  not  communi- 
cate with  one  another,  but  they  said  afterward 
that  their  thoughts  were  the  same. 

The  battle  of  the  air  opened  with  a  rush  and 
a  roar.  The  Germans,  though  outnumbered  by 
their  opponents,  did  not  hesitate,  but  came  on 
fiercely.  They  attacked  first  the  big  photo- 
graphing planes,  for  they  realized  that  these 
were  the  real  "eyes"  of  the  squadron.  The  im- 
pressions they  received,  and  the  views  they 
carried  back,  might  mean  the  failure  of  the 
German  plans. 

But  the  French  were  ready  for  this,  and  the 


DEVASTATING  FIRE  175 

swift  little  Nieuports,  dashing  here  and  there, 
swooping  and  rising,  attacked  the  other  planes 
vigorously. 

It  was  give  and  take,  hammer  and  tongs,  fire 
and  be  fired  on,  smash  and  be  smashed.  It  was 
not  as  one-sided  a  battle  as  it  would  seem  it 
might  have  been  owing  to  the  superiority  of 
numbers  in  favor  of  the  French  —  at  least  at 
first.  Several  of  the  Allies'  planes  were  sent 
down,  either  out  of  control,  or  in  flames.  But 
the  Huns  paid  'dearly  for  their  quarry. 

Jack  and  Tom  ran  serious  risks,  for  the  Ger- 
mans, realizing  that  the  two  leading  planes  had 
some  special  mission,  attacked  them  fiercely. 
Tom  managed  to  shake  off  and  disable  his  an- 
tagonist. But  Jack's  man  shot  with  such  good 
aim  that  he  pieiced  his  gasolene  tank,  and  had 
it  not  been  that  Jack  was  able  to  thrust  into 
the  hole  one  of  some  wooden  plugs  he  had 
brought  along  for  the  purpose,  he  might  have 
had  to  come  down  within  the  German  lines. 
But  the  wood  swelled,  filled  the  hole,  and  then 
the  petrol  came  out  so  slowly  that  there  was 
comparatively  little  danger. 

And  having,  with  some  of  their  companions, 
fought  their  way  through  the  German  air  patrol, 
and  having  escaped  with  minor  damage  to  their 
guns,  Jack  and  Tom  looked  down  at  the  place 
where  they  had  seen  the  queer  lights. 


176  DEVASTATING  FIRE 

And  then,  high  up  and  at  a  vantage  point, 
while  below  them  hovered  their  photographing 
planes,  the  two  young  aviators  beheld  a  curious 
sight. 

In  German-occupied  territory,  but  on  French 
soil,  they  saw  near  a  railroad  junction,  where 
they  were  fairly  well  hidden  in  a  camouflaged 
position,  not  one,  but  three  monster  Hun  can- 
nons. The  guns  looked  more  like  gigantic  cranes 
than  like  the  accepted  form  of  a  great  rifled 
piece  of  armament.  The  guns  were  so  mounted 
that  they  could  be  run  out  on  a  small  track  at 
the  moment  of  firing,  and  then  propelled  back 
again,  like  some  of  the  disappearing  cannon  at 
Sandy  Hook  and  other  United  States  forts. 
Only  the  German  guns  advanced  and  retreated 
horizontally,  while  the  usual  method  is  vertically. 

"We've  discovered  'em!  There  they  are!" 
cried  Tom,  but  of  course  he  could  not  hear  his 
own  voice  above  the  roar  of  his  motor.  But  he 
knew  that  he  and  Jack  were  over  the  very  spot 
where  the  night  before  they  had  seen  the 
colored  flares  from  the  great  guns. 

And  they  had,  indeed,  by  a  most  lucky  chance, 
located  the  big  German  guns,  for  there  were 
three  of  them.  They  were  placed  almost  mid- 
way between  the  railroad  station  of  Crepyen- 
Lannois  and  the  two  forts  known  as  "Joy  Hills," 
forts  which  had  fallen  into  German  hands.  There 


DEVASTATING  FIRE  177 

were  two  railroad  spur  lines  from  the  station, 
and  on  these  the  heavy  guns  were  moved  to 
position  to  fire,  and  then  run  back  again.  Other 
spur  lines  were  under  course  of  construction, 
Jack  and  Tom,  as  well  as  the  other  airmen,  could 
observe,  indicating  that  other  guns  were  to  be 
mounted,  perhaps  to  take  the  place  of  some  that 
might  be  destroyed. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  as  was  learned  later,  there 
were  but  two  guns  in  service  at  this  time,  one 
of  the  three  having  burst.* 

Even  as  the  French  squadron  came  hovering 
over  the  place  where  the  German  monster 
guns  were  placed,  the  advance  of  Tom,  Jack 
and  their  comrades  being  disputed  by  the  Huns, 
one  of  the  super-guns  was  run  out  to  fire  on 
its  specially  constructed  platform. 

That  this  should  be  done  in  the  very  faces  of 
the  French  was  probably  accounted  for  by  the 
fact  that  the  Germans  were  taken  by  surprise. 
It  took  some  little  time  to  arrange  for  firing 
one  of  the  big  cannons,  and  it  was  probably  too 
late,  after  the  French  airmen  were  hovering 
above  it,  to  get  word  to  the  crew  not  to  dis- 
charge it. 

*NOTE. — While  of  course  this  story  is  fiction,  the  de- 
scription given  above  of  the  great  guns  and  their  method 
of  firing  and  concealment  is  strictly  in  accord  with  the 
facts,  and  made  from  a  sight  of  aeroplane  photographs 
taken  by  the  French,  and  from  an  official  report,  published 
April  26,  1918,  by  Deputy  Charles  Leboucq  of  the  Depart- 
ment of  the  Seine. 


178  DEVASTATING  FIRE 

As  it  happened,  Tom  and  Jack,  with  Bough- 
ton,  who  had  kept  pace  with  them,  witnessed 
the  firing  of  the  big  gun.  As  it  was  discharged, 
ten  other  heavy  guns,  but,  of  course,  cf  much 
less  range,  were  fired  off,  being  discharged  as 
one  to  cover  the  report  of  the  giant  mortar. 
And  at  the  same  time  dense  clouds  of  smoke 
were  sent  up  from  surrounding  hills,  in  an  en- 
deavor to  screen  the  big  gun  from  aeroplane 
observation.  But  it  was  too  late. 

In  another  moment,  and  even  as  the  echoes 
of  the  reports  of  the  ten  cannons  and  the  big 
gun  were  rumbling,  the  bombing  machine  of 
the  French  came  up  and  began  to  drop  ex- 
plosives on  the  spot.  At  the  same  time  word 
of  the  location  of  the  great  cannon  was  wire- 
lessed back  to  the  camp,  and  there  began  a 
devastating  fire  on  the  guns  that  had  been,  and 
were  even  then,  bombarding  Paris. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

OVER   THE   RHINE 

IT  was  a  battle  of  the  air  and  on  the  ground 
at  the  same  time.  From  above  the  French, 
American  and  British  airmen  were  dropping 
tons  of  explosives  on  the  emplacements  of  the 
big  guns  and  on  the  railway  spurs  that  brought 
them  to  the  firing  points.  It  might  seem  an 
easy  matter  for  an  airship  flying  over  a  place  to 
drop  an  explosive  bomb  on  it  and  destroy  it. 
But,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  very  difficult. 

The  bombing  plane  must  be  constantly  on 
the  move,  and  it  takes  a  pretty  good  eye  to 
calculate  the  distance  from  a  great  height  suffi- 
ciently well  to  make  a  direct  hit. 

But  a  certain  percentage  of  the  bombs  tind 
their  mark,  and  they  did  in  this  case.  Tom 
and  Jack,  as  well  as  the  other  scouts,  looking 
down  from  their  planes,  saw  fountains  of  brown 
earth  being  tossed  into  the  air  as  the  French 
bombs  exploded.  At  the  same  time  the 
photographers  in  the  other  planes  were  making 
pictures  of  the  guns  and  their  location. 

They  were  hindered  in  this  not  only  by  the 
shooting  of  the  Germans  from  below,  who 

179 


'i8o  OVER  THE  RHINE 

were  working-  their  anti-aircraft  guns  to  their 
capacity,  but  by  screens  of  smoke  clouds,  which 
were  emitted  by  a  special  apparatus  to  hide  the 
big  guns.  At  the  same  time  other  cannons 
were  being  fired  to  disguise  the  sound  from  the 
immense  long-range  weapon,  but  this  was  of 
little  effect,  now  that  the  location  had  been 
discovered. 

Meanwhile  a  score  or  more  of  the  Hun  planes 
appeared  in  the  air.  They  had  taken  flight  as 
soon  as  their  pilots  saw  the  squadron  of  enemy 
machines  approaching,  and  were  eager,  this 
time,  to  give  battle. 

"Our  work's  being  cut  out  for  us,"  murmured 
Tom,  as  he  steered  his  machine  to  engage  a 
German  who  seemed  eager  for  the  fray.  Torn 
sent  a  spray  of  bullets  at  his  enemy,  and  was 
fired  at  in  turn.  He  knew  his  craft  had  been  hit 
several  times,  but  he  did  not  think  it  was 
seriously  damaged. 

Jack,  too,  as  he  could  tell  by  a  quick  glance, 
was  also  engaged  with  a  German,  but  Tom  had 
no  time  then  to  bestow  on  mere  observation. 
His  antagonist  was  a  desperate  Hun,  bent  on 
the  utter  destruction  of  Tom's  machine.  They 
came  to  closer  quarters. 

Down  below  the  fighting  was  growing  more 
furious.  It  was  in  the  form  of  an  artillery  duel. 
For  now  the  French  observation  machines  were 


OVER  THE  RHINE         %      181 

wirelessing  back  the  range,  and  French  shells 
were  falling  very  near  the  big  guns. 

The  heavy  guns,  in  modern  warfare,  are  placed 
miles  away  from  the  objects  they  wish  to  hit, 
and  the  only  way  to  know  where  the  targets 
are  is  by  aeroplane  observation.  When  the  guns 
are  ready  to  fire  one  of  the  artillery  control 
planes  goes  up  over  the  enemy's  territory.  Of 
course  it  is  the  object  of  the  enemy  to  drive 
it  away  if  possible. 

But,  hovering  in  the  air,  the  observer  in  the 
double-motored  machine  notes  the  effect  of  the 
first  shot  from  his  side's  cannon.  If  it  goes 
beyond  the  mark  he  so  signals  by  wireless.  If  it 
falls  short  he  sends  another  signal.  Thus  the 
range  is  corrected,  and  finally  he  sees  that  the 
big  shells  are  landing  just  where  they  are 
needed  to  destroy  a  battery,  or  whatever  is  the 
object  aimed  at.  The  observation  complete,  the 
machine  goes  back  over  its  own  lines  —  if  the 
Germans  let  it. 

This  sort  of  work  was  going  on  below  them 
while  Tom,  Jack  and  the  others  in  the  Nieuports 
were  engaging  in  mortal  combat  with  the  Hun 
fliers.  Some  of  the  heavy  French  shells  fell 
beyond  the  emplacements  of  the  big  guns,  and 
others  were  short.  The  observers  quickly  made 
corrections  by  wireless  for  the  gunners.  Tom 
Raymond,  after  a  desperate  swoop  at  his  antag- 


182  OVER  THE  RHINE 

onist,  sent  him  down  in  flames,  and  then,  seeking 
another  to  engage,  at  the  same  time  wondering 
how  Jack  had  fared,  the  young  aviator  looked 
down  and  saw  one  of  the  largest  of  the  French 
shells  fall  directly  at  the  side  of  the  foremost  of 
the  three  German  giant  cannons. 

There  was  a  terrific  explosion.  Of  course, 
Tom  could  not  hear  it  because  of  his  height 
and  the  noise  his  motor  was  making,  but  he 
could  see  what  happened.  A  great  breach  was 
made  in  the  long  barrel  of  the  German  gun,  and 
its  emplacement  was  wrecked,  while  the  men 
who  had  been  swarming  about  the  place  like 
ants  seemed  to  melt  into  the  earth.  They  were 
blotted  out 

"One  gone!"  exclaimed  Tom  grimly.  And 
then  he  noted  that  the  other  two  guns  had  been 
withdrawn  beneath  the  camouflage.  They  were 
no  longer  in  sight,  and  hitting  them  was  a 
question  of  chance. 

Still  the  French  batteries  kept  up  their  fire, 
hoping  to  make  another  hit,  but  it  would  be  a 
matter  of  mere  luck  now,  for  the  guns  were  out 
of  observation. 

The  airmen  observers,  however,  still  had  a 
general  idee,  of  where  the  super-weapons  were, 
and  the  French  gunners  continued  to  send  over 
a  rain  of  shells,  while  the  bombing  machines, 
save  one  that  had  been  destroyed  by  the  German 


OVER  THE  RHINE  183 

fire,  kept  dropping  high  explosives  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. 

"The  place  will  be  badly  chewed  up,  at  any 
rate,"  mused  Tom. 

He  glanced  in  the  direction  where  he  had  last 
seen  Jack,  and  to  his  horror  saw  his  chum's 
machine  start  downward  in  a  spinning  nose  dive. 

"I  wonder  if  they've  got  him,  or  if  he's  doing 
that  to  fool  'em,"  thought  Tom.  As  he  was 
temporarily  free  from  attack  at  that  instant  he 
started  toward  his  friend.  Hovering  over  him, 
and  spraying  bullets  at  Jack,  was  a  German 
machine,  and  Tom  realized  that  this  fighter 
might  have  injured,  or  even  killed,  Jack. 

"Well,  I'll  settle  your  hash,  anyhow!"  grimly 
muttered  the  young  birdman  to  himself.  He 
sailed  straight  for  the  Hun,  who  had  not  yet 
seen  him,  and  then  Tom  opened  fire.  It  was 
too  late  for  the  German  to  turn  to  engage  his 
second  antagonist,  and  Tom  saw  the  look  of 
hopelessness  on  his  face  as  the  bullets  crashed 
into  his  machine,  sending  it  down  a  wreck. 

"So  much  for  poor  old  Jack!"  cried  Tom. 

They  were  well  over  the  German  lines  now, 
and  the  fight  was  going  against  the  French. 
That  is,  they  were  being  outnumbered  by  the 
Hun  planes,  which  were  numerous  in  the  air. 
But  the  French  had  accomplished  their  des- 
perate mission.  One  of  the  German  guns  was 


184  OVER  THE  RHINE 

out  of  commission,  and  perhaps  others,  while 
the  location  had  been  made  "considerably  un- 
healthy," as  Boughton  expressed  it  afterward. 

It  was  time  for  the  French  to  retire,  and  those 
of  their  machines  that  were  able  prepared  to 
do  this.  But  Tom  was  going  to  see  first  what 
happened  to  Jack  before  he  returned  to  his  lines. 

"He  may  be  spinning  down,  intending  to  get 
out  of  a  bad  scrape  that  way,  and  then  straighten 
for  a  flight  toward  home,"  mused  Tom.  "Or  he 
may  be  —  " 

But  he  did  not  finish  the  sentence. 

There  was  but  one  way  for  Tom  to  be  near 
Jack  when  the  latter  landed  —  if  such  was  to 
be  his  fate  —  and  to  give  him  help,  provided 
he  was  alive.  And  that  was  for  Tom  himself 
to  go  down  in  a  spinning  nose  dive,  which  is 
the  speediest  method  by  which  a  plane  can 
descend.  But  there  is  great  danger  that  the 
terrific  speed  may  tear  the  wings  from  the 
machine. 

"I'm  going  to  risk  it,  though,"  decided  Tom. 

Down  and  down  he  spun,  and  as  he  looked 
he  became  aware,  to  his  joy,  that  Jack  had  his 
machine  under  some  control. 

"He  isn't  dead  yet,  by  any  means,"  thought 
Tom.  "But  he  may  be  hurt.  I  wonder  if  he  can 
make  a  good  landing?  If  he  does  it  will  be 
inside  the  German  lines,  though,  and  then  —  " 


OVER  THE  RHINE  185 

But  Tom  never  faltered.  He  must  rescue  his 
chum,  or  attempt  to,  at  all  hazards. 

Down  went  both  machines,  Jack's  in  the  lead, 
and  then,  to  his  joy,  Tom  saw  his  friend  bring 
the  machine  on  a  level  keel  again  and  prepare 
to  make  a  landing.  This  was  in  a  rather  lonely 
spot,  but  already,  in  the  distance,  as  Tom  could 
note  from  his  elevated  position,  Germans  were 
hurrying  toward  the  place,  ready  to  capture  the 
French  machine. 

"If  he's  alive  I'll  save  him!"  declared  Tom. 
"My  machine  will  carry  double  in  a  pinch,  but 
he'll  have  to  ride  on  the  engine  hood." 

Tom  was  going  to  take  .a  desperate  chance, 
but  one  that  has  been  duplicated  and  equalled 
more  than  once  in  the  present  war.  He  was 
going  to  descend  as  near  Jack's  wrecked  ma- 
chine as  he  could,  pick  up  his  chum,  and  trust 
to  luck  to  getting  off  again  before  the  Germans 
could  arrive. 

That  Jack  was  once  more  master  of  his  craft 
became  evident  to  his  friend.  For  the  Nieuport 
was  slowing  down  and  Jack  was  making  ready 
for  as  good  a  landing  as  possible  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. It  was  plain,  however,  that  his 
machine  was  damaged  in  some  way,  or  he  would 
have  gone  on  flying  toward  his  own  lines. 

Tom  saw  his  chum  drop  to  the  ground,  and 
then  saw  him  quickly  climb  out  of  his  seat,  loos- 


i86  OVER  THE  RHINE 

ing  the  strap  that  held  him  in.  By  this  time 
other  German  planes  were  swooping  toward  the 
place,  and  a  squad  of  cavalry  was  also  galloping 
toward  it. 

"I'll  beat  you,  though!"  cried  Tom  fiercely. 

He  throttled  down  his  engine,  intending  to 
give  it  just  enough  gas  to  keep  it  going,  for 
he  would  have  no  one  to  start  it  for  him  if  the 
motor  stalled.  He  calculated  that  he  could 
taxi  the  craft  across  the  ground  slowly  enough 
for  Jack  to  jump  on  and  then  he  could  get  away, 
saving  both  of  them. 

Jack  understood  the  plan  at  once.  He  waved 
his  hand  to  Tom  to  show  that  he  would  be 
ready,  and  Tom  felt  a  joy  in  his  heart  as  he 
realized  that  his  chum  was  uninjured. 

Down  to  the  ground  went  Tom,  and  he  guided 
his  machine  toward  Jack,  standing  beside  his 
own  damaged  craft,  waiting.  Suddenly  there 
was  a  sharp  report,  and  Tom  saw  Jack's  machine 
burst  into  flames. 

"He  fired  into  the  gasolene  tank!"  thought 
Tom.  "That's  the  boy!  He  isn't  going  to  let 
the  Huns  get  his  machine  and  the  maps  and 
instruments.  Good !" 

Jack  leaped  back  from  the  blaze  that  suddenly 
enveloped  his  aeroplane  and  then  ran  toward 
Tom's  machine.  As  he  leaped  upon  the  engine 
hood,  which  he  could  do  with  little  more  risk 


OVER  THE  RHINE  187 

than  boarding  a  swiftly  moving  trolley  car,  there 
was  a  burst  of  rifle  fire  from  the  cavalry,  some 
of  which  had  reached  the  scene. 

Jack  gave  a  gasping  cry,  and  fell  limp.  He 
almost  slipped  from  the  motor  hood,  but  with 
one  hand  Tom  quickly  fastened  his  companion's 
life  belt  to  the  support  and  then,  knowing  Jack 
could  not  fall  off,  opened  his  engine  wide. 

Across  the  ground  the  double-loaded  craft 
careened,  while  the  cavalry  opened  fire. 

"If  they  hit  me  now,  it's  all  up  with  both  of 
us!"  thought  Tom  desperately. 

But  though  the  bullets  splattered  all  around 
him,  and  some  hit  the  machine,  neither  he  nor 
Jack  was  struck  again,  nor  was  any  vital  part 
of  the  machinery  damaged.  Poor  Jack,  though, 
seemed  lifeless,  and  Tom  feared  he  had  arrived 
the  fraction  of  a  minute  too  late. 

Then  up  rose  Tom's  plane,  up  and  up,  the 
powerful  engine  doing  its  best,  though  the 
machine  was  carrying  double  weight.  But  the 
Nieuports  are  mechanical  wonders,  and  once 
the  craft  was  free  of  the  earth  it  began  climbing. 
Fortunately  there  were  no  swift  German 
machines  near  enough  to  give  effective  chase, 
though  some  of  the  heavier  bi-motored  craft 
opened  fire,  as  did  the  cavalry  from  below,  as 
well  as  some  of  the  anti-aircraft  guns. 

But  Tom,  keeping  on  full  speed,  soon  climbed 


i88  OVER  THE  RHINE 

up  out  of  danger,  and  then  swung  around  for  a 
flight  toward  his  own  lines.  He  could  see,  ahead 
of  him,  the  fleet  of  French  planes,  going  back 
after  the  raid  on  the  big  guns.  Tom's  plane  was 
the  rearmost  one. 

Then  he  knew  that  he  was  safe !  But  he  feared 
for  Jack! 

One  after  another,  such  as  were  left  of  the 
raiding  party  landed.  Their  comrades  crowded 
around  them,  congratulating  them  with  bubbling 
words  of  joy.  Yet  there  was  sorrow  for  those 
that  did  not  return. 

"Is  he  dead  ?"  asked  Tom,  as  orderlies  quickly 
unstrapped  Jack,  and  prepared  to  carry  him  to 
the  hospital.  "Is  he  dead?" 

"Alive,  but  badly  wounded,"  said  a  surgeon, 
who  made  a  hasty  examination. 

And  then  all  seemed  to  become  dark  to  Tom 
Raymond. 

"Well,  Jack,  old  man,  how  do  you  fee!?" 
"Oh,  pretty  good!   How's  yourself?" 
"Better,  now  that  they've  let  me  in  to  see 
you." 

"You  got  the  big  guns,  I  understand." 

"You  mean  you  did,  too.  It  was  as  much  your 

doings  as  mine.    Yes,  we  sprayed  'em  good  and 

proper.     They  won't  fire  on  Paris  again  right 

away,  but  I  suppose  they'll  not  give  up  the  trick, 


OVER  THE  RHINE  189 

once  they  have  learned  it.  But  we  have  their 
number  all  right.  Now  you  want  to  hurry  up 
and  get  well." 

Jack  was  in  the  hospital  recovering  from 
several  bullet  wounds.  They  had  not  been  as 
dangerous  as  at  first  feared,  but  they  were  bad 
enough.  Tom  had  come  to  see  him  and  give 
some  of  the  details  of  the  great  raid,  which  Jack 
had  been  unable  to  hear  because  of  weakness. 
Now  he  was  convalescing. 

"What's  the  idea  of  hurry  ?"  asked  Jack.  "Are 
we  going  after  more  big  cannon?" 

"No,  this  is  a  different  stunt  now.  We're  going 
over  the  Rhine." 

"Over  the  Rhine?"  and  Jack  sat  up  in  bed. 

"Monsieur  —  I  must  beg  —  please  do  not 
excite  him !"  exclaimed  a  pretty  nurse,  hurrying 
up.  "The  doctor  said  he  must  keep  quiet." 

"But  I  want  to  hear  about  this,"  insisted  Jack. 
"Over  the  Rhine !  Say,  that'll  be  great !  Carry- 
ing the  war  into  the  enemy's  country  for  fair !" 

"I'll  tell  you  a  little  later,"  promised  Tom, 
moving  away  in  obedience  to  an  entreaty  from 
the  nurse. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

OFF   FOR   GERMANY 

WHETHER  it  was  Tom's  news  or  Jack's  natural 
health  was  not  made  clear,  but  something  cer- 
tainly caused  Jack  Parmly  to  recover  strength 
much  more  rapidly  then  the  surgeons  had  be- 
lieved possible,  so  that  he  was  able  to  leave  the 
hospital  soon  after  Tom's  visit. 

"And  now  I  want  you  to  explain  what  you 
meant  by  saying  we  were  to  go  over  the  Rhine," 
Jack  insisted  to  his  chum.  "I've  been  wondering 
and  thinking  about  it  ever  since  you  mentioned 
it,  but  none  of  them  would  tell  me  a  thing." 

"No,  I  reckon  not,"  chuckled  Tom. 

"Why,  you  old  sphinx?" 

"Because  they  didn't  know.    It's  a  secret." 

"Can  you  tell  me?" 

"Sure!  Because  you're  going  to  be  in  it  if 
you  are  strong  enough." 

"Strong  enough?  Of  course  I'll  be!  Why,, 
I'm  feeling  better  every  minute!  Now  you  go 
ahead  and  relieve  my  anxiety.  But  first  tell  me 
—  have  you  had  any  news  of  your  father?" 

Tom  shook  his  head. 

"Not  a  word,"  he  answered.  "I'm  beginning 
190 


OFF  FOR  GERMANY  191 

to  feel  that  he  has  been  captured  by  the 
Germans." 

"That's  bad,"  murmured  Jack.  "And  now, 
have  you  heard  anything  about  —  " 

"Bessie  and  her  mother?"  finished  Tom, 
breaking  in  on  his  chum's  question  with  a  laugh. 
"Yes,  I'm  glad  I  can  give  you  good  news  there. 
They  are  all  right,  and  I  have  a  letter  from 
Bessie  for  you.  She  wants  you  to  come  and 
see  her." 

"You  have  a  letter?  Why  didn't  you  give  it 
to  me  before?  You  fish!" 

"It  just  came.  And  so  did  news  about 
their  safety." 

"Then  the  spy  didn't  get  'em  after  all." 

"Oh,  yes,  he  got  'em  all  right !  But  he  bungled 
the  job,  or  rather,  Bessie  bungled  it  for  him. 
They  were  rescued,  and  the  spy  was  locked  up. 
We're  to  go  to  Paris  to  see  them.  They'll  tell 
us  all  about  it  then." 

"But  what  has  that  to  do  with  our  going  over 
the  Rhine?" 

"Nothing.  WVre  to  go  to  Paris  for  a  rest, 
and  to  get  in  shape  for  a  big  effort  against  the 
Germans.  I'll  tell  you  about  it." 

"Forge  ahead,  then." 

Tom  got  up  to  look  at  the  doors  and  windows 
of  the  French  cottage  back  of  the  lines,  where 
Jack  had  been  moved  to  complete  his  recovery. 


192  OFF  FOR  GERMANY 

Tom  and  Jack,  after  the  sensational  raid,  had 
been  given  leave  of  absence. 

"I  just  want  to  make  sure  no  one  hears  what 
I  say,  for  it's  a  dead  secret  yet,"  Tom  went  OR. 
"But  this  is  the  plan.  The  French  have  several 
of  the  biggest  and  newest  Italian  planes — planes 
that  can  carry  half  a  dozen  men  and  lots  of 
ammunition.  Our  aerodrome  is  going  to  be 
shifted  to  the  Alsace-Lorraine  front,  and  from 
there,  where  the  distance  to  German  territory 
is  shorter  than  from  here,  we  are  to  go  over  the 
Rhine  and  bombard  some  of  their  ammunition 
and  arms  factories,  and  also  railroad  centers,  if 
we  can  reach  'em." 

"Good !"  cried  Jack.  "I'm  with  you  from  the 
fall  of  the  hat!" 

"First  you've  got  to  build  up  a  little,"  stated 
Tom.  "There  is  no  great  rush  about  this  Rhine- 
crossing  expedition.  A  lot  of  plans  have  to  be 
perfected,  and  we've  got  to  try  out  the  Italian 
plane.  And,  before  that,  we  are  to  go  to 
Paris." 

"Who  says  so?" 

"Major  de  Trouville.  He's  greatly  pleased 
with  the  result  of  the  raid  on  the  big  German 
guns,  and  says  we're  entitled  to  a  vacation.  Also 
he  knows  I  want  to  make  some  more  inquiries 
about  my  father.  But  I  fear  they  will  be  use- 
less," and  Tom  sighed. 


OFF  FOR  GERMANY  193 

"Arid  are  we  to  go  to  see  Mrs.  Gleason?" 
asked  Jack. 

"Yes.  And  Bessie,  too.  They'll  tell  us  all  that 
happened." 

A  few  days  later,  having  received  the  neces- 
sary papers,  Tom  and  Jack  were  once  more  on 
their  way  to  the  capital.  And  this  time  they  did 
not,  with  others,  have  to  suffer  the  danger  and 
annoyance  of  the  long-range  bombardment.  It 
was  over  for  a  time,  but  there  was  no  guarantee 
that  the  Germans  would  not  renew  it  as  soon  as 
they  could  repair  the  damage  done  to  their 
giant  cannons. 

The  boys  found  Bessie  and  her  mother  in 
lodgings  in  a  quiet  part  of  Paris,  and  were  met 
with  warm  greetings.  Then  the  Gleasons  told 
their  story. 

They  had  been  inveigled  out  of  their  lodgings 
by  the  false  note  from  the  boys,  and  had  im- 
mediately been  taken  in  charge  by  the  spy,  who, 
it  was  proved,  was  an  agent  of  the  infamous 
Potzfeldt.  But  Bessie,  after  several  days'  cap- 
tivity in  an  obscure  part  of  the  great  city, 
managed  to  drop  a  letter  out  of  the  window, 
asking  for  help. 

The  police  were  communicated  with,  and  not 
only  rescued  Mrs.  Gleason  and  her  daughter, 
but  caught  the  spy  as  well,  and  secured  with 
him  papers  which  enabled  a  number  of  Ger- 


194  OFF  FOR  GERMANY 

many's  ruthless  secret  service  agents  to  be 
arrested. 

It  was  because  of  the  necessity  for  keeping 
this  part  of  the  work  quiet  that  no  word  of  the 
rescue  of  Bessie  and  her  mother  was  sent  to 
the  boys  until  after  the  big  gun  raid. 

There  was  much  to  be  talked  about  when  the 
friends  met  once  more,  and  Mrs.  Gleason  said 
she  and  Bessie  were  going  back  to  the  United 
States  as  soon  as  they  could,  to  get  beyond  the 
power  of  Potzfeldt. 

As  Tom  had  feared,  there  was  no  news  of  his 
father,  but  he  did  not  yet  give  up  all  hope. 

"If  he's  a  prisoner  there's  a  chance  to  rescue 
him,"  he  said. 

The  time  spent  in  Paris  seemed  all  too  short, 
and  it  came  to  an  end  sooner  than  the  boys 
wished.  Jack  was  almost  himself  again,  though 
he  limped  slightly  from  one  of  the  German 
bullets  in  his  leg.  There  was  every  hope,  how- 
ever, that  this  would  pass  away  in  time. 

Good-byes  were  said  to  Bessie  and  her  mother, 
and  once  more  the  two  Air  Service  boys 
reported  to  their  aerodrome.  There  they  found 
not  one,  but  two,  of  the  big  Italian  machines, 
which  are  capable  of  long  flight,  carrying  loads 
that  even  the  most  ponderous  bombing  plane 
would  be  unable  to  rise  with. 

Preparations    for    the    bold    dash    into    the 


OFF  FOR  GERMANY  195 

enemy's  country  went  on  steadily  and  swiftly. 
Tom  and  Jack  were  trained  in  the  management 
of  the  big  birds  of  the  air,  and  though  it  was 
essentially  different  from  what  they  had  been 
used  to  in  the  Nieuports  and  the  Caudrons,  they 
soon  mastered  the  knack  of  it,  and  became 
among  the  most  expert. 

"I  believe  I  made  no  mistake  when  I  picked 
them  to  be  part  of  the  raiding  force,"  said  Major 
de  Trouville. 

"Indeed  you  did  not,"  agreed  Lieutenant 
Laigney.  "Their  work  in  discovering  the  big 
guns,  and  their  help  in  silencing  them,  showed 
what  sort  of  boys  they  are." 

And  finally  the  day  came  when  those  who 
were  to  take  pait  in  the  raid  across  the  Rhine 
were  to  proceed  to  a  point  within  the  French 
lines  from  which  the  start  was  to  be  made. 

Other  Italian  planes  would  await  them  there, 
and  there  they  would  receive  final  instructions. 

They  bade  farewell  to  their  comrades  in  Camp 
Lincoln,  and  were  given  final  hand-shakes,  while 
more  than  one,  struggling  to  repress  his  emo- 
tion wished  them  "bonne  chance !" 

This  raid  against  one  of  the  largest  and  most 
important  of  the  German  factory  and  railroad 
sections  had  long  been  contemplated  and  details 
elaborately  worked  out  for  it.  The  start  was  to 
be  made  from  the  nearest  point  in  French- 


196  OFF  FOR  GERMANY 

occupied  territory,  and  it  was  calculated  that 
the  big  Italian  machines  could  start  early  in  the 
evening-,  cross  the  Rhine,  reach  their  objective 
by  midnight,  drop  the  tons  of  bombs  and  be 
back  within  the  French  lines  by  morning. 

Such,  at  least,  was  the  hope.  Whether  it 
would  be  realized  was  a  matter  of  anxious  con- 
jecture. 

At  last  all  was  in  readiness.  The  final  exam- 
inations of  the  machines  and  their  motors  had 
been  made  and  the  supplies  and  bombs  were 
in  place. 

"Attention!"  called  the  commander.  "Are 
you  ready?" 

"Ready!"  came  from  Tom,  who  was  in  com- 
mand of  one  machine. 

"Ready!"  answered  Haught,  who  was  in 
charge  of  the  second. 

"Then  go,  and  may  good  fortune  go  with 
you!" 

There  was  a  roar  of  the  motors,  and  the  big, 
ponderous  machines  started  for  Germany. 

Would  they  ever  reach  it  ? 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

PRISONERS 

UNDER  the  evening  stars,  the  two  big  Italian 
machines  slowly,  and,  it  must  be  said,  somewhat 
ponderously,  as  compared  with  a  speedy  Nieu- 
port,  winged  their  way  toward  the  German  river, 
behind  which  it  was  hoped,  some  day,  to  drive 
the  savage  Huns. 

"What  do  you  think?"  asked  Jack  of  his 
chum,  for  in  these  latest  machines,  by  reason 
of  the  motors  being  farther  from  the  passengers, 
and  by  means  of  tubes,  some  talk  could  be  car- 
ried on. 

"I  don't  know  just  what  to  think,"  was  the 
answer.  "So  much  has  happened  of  late,  that 
it's  almost  beyond  my  thinking  capacity." 

"That's  right.  And  yet  I  can  guess  one  thing 
you  have  in  mind,  Tom,  old  scout." 

"What  is  it?" 

"Your  father !  You're  hoping  you  can  rescue 
him." 

"That's  right,  I  am.  And  as  soon  as  this 
drive  is  over  —  if  we  come  back  from  it  with 
any  measure  of  success,  and  I  can  get  a  long 

197 


198  PRISONERS 

leave  of  absence  —  I'm  going  to  make  a  thor- 
ough search  for  him." 

"And  I'll  be  with  you;  don't  forget  that!" 

There  was  not  time  for  too  much  talk  of  a 
personal  nature,  as  Tom  and  Jack  had  to  give 
their  attention  to  the  great  plane.  The  motors 
were  working  to  perfection,  and  with  luck  they 
should,  within  a  few  hours,  be  over  the  great 
German  works,  which  they  hoped  to  blow  up. 

Tom  was  in  charge  of  the  plane,  but  he  had 
Jack  and  others  to  help  him,  and  there  was  a 
certain  freedom  of  movement  permitted,  not 
possible  in  even  the  big  photographing  or 
bombing  planes. 

Down  below  little  could  be  seen,  for  they 
were  now  over  the  French  and  German  trenches, 
and  neither  side  was  showing  lights  for  fear  of 
attracting  the  fire  of  the  other. 

But  Tom  and  Jack  had  been  coached  in  the 
course  they  were  to  take  and,  in  addition,  they 
had  a  pilot  who,  a  few  weeks  before,  had  made 
a  partially  successful  raid  in  the  region  beyond 
the  Rhine,  barely  escaping  with  his  life. 

And  so  they  flew  on  under  the  silent  stars, 
that  looked  like  the  small  navigating  lights  on 
other  aeroplanes.  But,  as  far  as  the  raiders 
knew,  they  were  the  only  ones  aloft  in  that 
particular  region  just  then.  They  had  risen  to 
a  good  height  to  avoid  possible  danger  from 


PRISONERS  199 

the  German  anti-aircraft  guns.  There  was  not 
much  danger  from  the  German  planes,  as,  of 
late,  the  Huns  had  shown  no  very  strong  liking 
for  night  work,  except  in  necessary  defense. 

Off  to  the  left  Tom  and  Jack  could  see  the 
other  big  Italian  plane,  in  charge  of  Haught. 
Jt  carried  only  small  navigating  lights,  carefully 
screened  so  as  to  be  invisible  from  below. 

"I  suppose  you  understand  the  orders,"  said 
Tom,  speaking  to  Jack. 

"Well,  we  went  over  them;  but  it  wouldn't 
do  any  harm  to  refresh  my  memory.  You're  to 
be  in  general  charge  of  the  navigation  of  the 
plane,  and  I'm  to  see  to  dropping  the  bombs — 
is  that  it?" 

"That's  it.  You'll  have  to  use  your  best 
judgment  when  it  comes  to  your  share.  I'll  get 
you  over  the  German  works  and  railroad 
centers,  as  nearly  as  I  can  in  the  dark,  and  then 
it  will  be  up  to  you." 

"I  hope  I  don't  fail,"  said  Jack,  speaking 
through  the  tube. 

"You  won't.  Don't  get  nervous.  Any  kind 
of  a  hit  will  throw  a  scare  into  the  Huns,  and 
make  them  feel  that  they  aren't  the  only  ones 
who  can  make  air  raids.  But  in  this  case  we're 
not  bombing  a  defenseless  town,  and  killing 
women  and  children.  This  is  a  fortified  place 
we're  going  over,  and  it's  well  defended." 


200  PRISONERS 

"Some  difference,"  agreed  Jack. 

''And  if  we  can  get  some  direct  hits,"  went 
on  Tom,  "and  blow  to  smithereens  some  of 
their  munition  or  armament  factories,  we'll  be 
so  much  nearer  to  winning  the  war." 

And  that,  in  brief,  was  the  object  of  the  flight 
over  the  Rhine. 

Once  more  the  boys  fell  silent. 

On  and  on  swept  the  planes.  Whether  the 
Germans  beneath  were  aware  of  the  danger  that 
menaced  them,  it  is  impossible  to  say.  But  they 
made  no  attempt  to  fire  on  the  Italian  craft. 
Probably  because  of  the  darkness,  and  owing 
to  the  great  height  at  which  they  flew,  the 
Huns  were  in  ignorance  of  what  was  taking 
place. 

On  and  on  in  the  night  and  beneath  the  silent 
stars  they  flew.  Now  Tom  and  the  pilot  began 
watching  for  some  landmark — some  cluster  of 
lights  which  would  tell  them  their  objective 
was  within  sight.  But  for  another  hour  nothing 
was  done  save  to  guide  the  big  craft  steadily 
onward. 

Once,  as  Jack  looked  down,  he  saw  what 
seemed  to  be  a  city,  and  he  thought  this  might 
be  the  place  where  the  great  factories  were 
situated. 

"No,  it's  an  important  town,"  Tom  said,  in 
answer  to  his  chum's  inquiries,  "but  it  is  only 


PRISONERS  201 

a  town — not  a  fortress,  as  the  Huns  call  Lon- 
don. That  isn't  fair  game  for  us." 

But  half  an  hour  later  the  pilot  spoke 
sharply,  and  gave  an  order.  He  pointed  down- 
ward and  ahead  and  there  a  faint  glow,  and 
one  that  spread  over  a  considerable  area,  could 
be  made  out. 

"That  is  where  we  are  to  drop  the  bombs," 
said  Tom  to  Jack. 

The  other  machine,  which  had  flown  some- 
what behind  the  one  in  which  were  the  two 
chums,  now  swerved  over  at  greater  speed. 
Her  pilot,  too,  had  picked  up  the  objective. 

And  now  began  the  most  dangerous  part  of 
the  mission.  For  it  would  not  do  to  drop  the 
bombs  from  too  great  a  height.  There  was  too 
much  risk  of  missing  the  mark.  The  planes 
must  descend,  and  then  they  would  be  within 
range  of  the  defensive  guns. 

But  it  had  to  be  done,  and  the  order  was 
given.  As  Jack  and  Tom  went  lower,  in  com- 
pany with  the  other  plane,  they  observed  that 
they  were  over  a  great  extent  of  factory  build- 
ings, where  German  war  work  was  going  on. 

And  now  the  noise  of  their  motors  was  heard. 
Searchlights  flashed  out  below  them,  and  stray 
beams  picked  them  up.  Then  the  anti-aircraft 
guns  began  to  bark. 

"We're  in  for  a  hot  time !"  cried  Jack. 


202  PRISONERS 

"You  said  it !"  echoed  Tom,  as  he  steered  the 
great  plane  to  get  into  an  advantageous  posi- 
tion. 

Through  a  glare  of  light,  and  amid  a  hail  of 
shots,  the  great  airships  rushed  down  to  hover 
over  the  German  factories.  They  would  not 
let  go  their  bombs  until  in  a  position  to  do  the 
most  damage,  and  this  took  a  little  time. 

"How  about  it,  Tom?"  asked  Jack,  for  he 
was  anxious  to  begin  dropping  the  bombs. 

"Just  another  minute.  We'll  go  down  a  little 
lower,  and  so  do  all  the  more  damage." 

And  down  the  airship  went.  She  was  hit 
several  times,  for  shrapnel  was  bursting  all 
around,  but  no  material  damage  was  done, 
though  one  of  the  observers  was  wounded. 

"Now!"  suddenly  signaled  Tom. 

"There  they  go!"  shouted  Jack,  and  he  re- 
leased bomb  after  bomb  from  the  retaining 
devices. 

Down  they  dropped,  to  explode  on  striking, 
and  the  loud  detonations  could  be  heard  even 
above  the  roar  of  the  motors.  Tom  noted  that 
the  other  machine  was  also  doing  great  de- 
struction, and  he  saw  that  their  object  had  been 
accomplished. 

Several  fires  broke  out  below  them  in  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  factory  property,  and  soon  the 
Germans  had  to  give  so  much  attention  to 


PRISONERS  203 

saving  what  they  could,  that  their  fire  against 
the  hostile  airships  noticeably  slackened. 

"Any  more  bombs  left,  Jack?"  asked  Tom. 

"A  few,"  answered  his  chum. 

"Let  'em  have  it  now.  We're  right  over  a 
big  building  that  seems  to  be  untouched." 

Down  went  the  bombs,  and  such  an  explosion 
resulted  that  it  could  mean  but  one  thing. 
They  had  set  off  a  munition  factory.  This,  as 
the  boys  afterward  learned,  was  the  case. 

So  great  was  the  blast  that  the  great  plane 
skidded  to  one  side,  and  a  moment  later  there 
came  a  cry  of  alarm  from  some  of  the  crew. 

"What's  the  matter?"  shouted  Tom. 

"Out  of  control,"  was  the  answer.  "One  of 
the  motors  has  stopped,  and  we've  got  to  go 
down." 

"Can't  we  go  up?" 

"No!"  was  the  despairing  answer.  "We've 
got  to  land  within  the  German  lines." 

And  down  the  great  Italian  plane  went, 
while  her  sister  ship  of  the  air  sailed  safely  off, 
for  it  would  have  been  foolhardy  for  her  to  have 
tried  to  come  to  the  rescue. 

The  crew  worked  desperately  to  send  their 
craft  up  again,  but  it  was  useless.  Lower  and 
lower  she  went,  fortunately  not  being  fired  at, 
so  great  was  the  confusion  caused  by  the 
destruction  of  the  factories. 


204  PRISONERS 

"Take  her  down  as  far  away  as  possible  from 
this  scene,"  said  Tom  to  one  of  his  men.  "If 
we  land  in  a  lonely  place  we  may  be  able  to 
make  repairs  and  get  up  again." 

"I  will,"  was  the  answer. 

Through  the  light  from  the  burning  build- 
ings, a  spot  in  a  level  field  was  selected  for  a 
landing.  And  down  the  Italian  plane  went. 

A  hasty  examination  showed  little  wrong 
with  the  motor,  and  this  little  was  quickly 
repaired. 

But  the  hope  of  getting  the  airship  to  rise 
again  was  frustrated,  for  just  as  the  raiding 
party  was  about  to  take  its  place  in  the  machine 
again,  a  company  of  German  soldiers  came 
running  over  the  fields,  demanding  the  sur- 
render of  the  intrepid  men  of  the  air.  There 
was  nothing  else  to  do — no  time  to  set  the 
craft  on  fire. 

So  it  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Germans! 
Tom,  Jack  and  the  others  were  prisoners! 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE   ESCAPE 

"WELL,  this  is  tough  luck !" 

"Tough  is  no  name  for  it,  Jack.  It's  the 
worst  ever!  I  don't  suppose  they'll  do  a  thing 
to  us  after  what  we  did  to  the  factories." 

"No.  We  certainly  scotched  'em  good  and 
proper.  Everything  went  off  like  a  tea  party, 
except  our  coming  down.  And  we  could  have 
gotten  up  again,  only  those  Germans  didn't 
give  us  a  chance." 

"You  can't  blame  'em  for  that." 

"No,  I  suppose  not.  But  it's  hard  lines.  I 
wonder  why  they're  keeping  us  here  ?" 

Tom  and  Jack  were  talking  thus  while  held 
prisoners  by  the  Germans,  after  the  airship  raid 
over  the  Rhine.  It  was  an  hour  after  they  had 
been  forced  to  descend. 

So  sudden  had  been  the  rusH  of  the  German 
infantry  that  no  chance  was  had  to  destroy  the 
great  Italian  plane,  and  it,  and  all  the  crew, 
including  the  two  Air  Service  boys,  had  been 
overpowered,  and  disarmed.  They  were  thrust 
into  what  might  pass  for  a  guardhouse,  and 
then,  a  guard  having  been  posted,  the  other 
205 


206  THE  ESCAPE 

soldiers  hurried  back  to  aid  in  fighting  the  fire 
which  had  been  started  in  the  great  factories, 
and  which  was  rapidly  spreading  to  all  the 
German  depot. 

"Well,  it's  worth  being  captured  to  think  of 
the  damage  we've  inflicted  on  the  Huns  this 
night,"  observed  Jack,  as  he  stood  with  Tom 
in  the  midst  of  their  fellow  prisoners. 

"That's  right.  We  don't  need  to  be  ashamed 
of  our  work,  especially  as  we've  helped  put  the 
big  guns  out  of  business.  I  reckon  the  Bodies 
won't  treat  us  any  too  well,  when  they  know 
what  we've  done." 

"And  the  other  plane  got  away,  they  tell  me," 
observed  one  of  the  French  crew. 

"Yes,  I  saw  her  rise  and  light  out  for  home, 
after  dropping  a  ton  or  so  of  bombs  on  this 
district,"  said  Tom.  "Well,  she  can  go  back 
and  report  a  success." 

"And  let  the  folks  know  we're  prisoners," 
said  Jack.  "It's  tough  luck,  but  it  had  to  be,  I 
suppose !  We're  lucky  to  be  alive." 

"You  said  it,"  agreed  Tom.  "We  came 
through  a  fierce  fire,  and  it's  a  wonder  that  we 
weren't  all  shot  to  pieces.  As  it  is,  the  plane  is 
as  good  as  ever." 

"Yes,  and  if  we  could  only  get  out  to  it,  and 
start  it  going  we  could  escape,"  observed  one 
of  the  Frenchmen  bitterly.  "There  she  is  now, 


THE  ESCAPE  207 

on  as  good  a  starting  field  as  one  could  wish!" 

From  their  stockade  of  barbed  wire  they 
could  look  out  and  see,  by  the  glare  of  the 
flames,  that  the  great  plane  stood  practically 
undamaged.  A  good  landing  had  been  made, 
but,  unfortunately,  in  the  midst  of  the  German 
ammunition  depot  section. 

"Whew,  that  was  a  fierce  one!"  exclaimed 
Jack,  as  a  loud  explosion  fairly  shook  the  place 
where  they  were  held  prisoners.  Some  ammuni- 
tion went  up  that  time." 

Indeed  the  explosion  did  seem  to  be  a  dis- 
astrous one,  for  there  was  considerable  shout- 
ing and  the  delivering  of  orders  in  German 
following  the  blast.  Many  of  the  soldiers  who 
had  been  summoned  to  stand  on  guard  about 
the  barbed-wire  stockade,  where  the  captured 
raiders  were  held,  were  summoned  away,  leav- 
ing only  a  small  number  on  duty. 

But  as  these  were  well  armed,  and  as  the  wire 
stockade  was  a  strong  one,  and  as  Jack,  Tom 
and  the  others  had  nothing  with  which  to  make 
a  fight,  they  were  as  safely  held  as  though 
guarded  by  a  regiment. 

"There  goes  another!"  cried  Jack,  as  a  sec- 
ond detonation,  almost  as  loud  as  the  first, 
shook  the  ground.  "Some  of  our  bombs  must 
have  been  time  ones." 

"No,"  said  Tom.    "What's  probably  happen- 


208  THE  ESCAPE 

ing  is  that  the  fire  is  reaching  stores  of  ammu- 
nition, one  after  the  other.  This  whole  place 
may  go  up  in  a  minute." 

That  seemed  to  be  the  fear  on  the  part  of  the 
Germans,  for  more  orders  were  shouted,  and  all 
but  two  of  the  soldiers  guarding  the  captives 
were  summoned  away  from  the  wire  stockade. 

There  had  been  a  bright  flare  of  fire  after  the 
second  explosion,  but  this  soon  died  away,  and 
the  shouts  and  commands  of  the  officers  direct- 
ing the  fire-fighting  force  could  be  heard. 

Tom  and  Jack  were  standing  near  the  wire 
barrier  trying  to  look  out  to  see  what  was 
going  on  beyond  a  group  of  ruined  factory 
buildings,  and  at  the  same  time  casting  longing 
eyes  at  the  great  aeroplane  which  seemed  only 
waiting  for  them,  when  the  two  boys  became 
aware  of  a  figure  which  appeared  to  be  slinking 
along  the  side  of  the  stockade.  This  figure 
acted  as  though  it  desired  to  attract  no  atten- 
tion, for  it  kept  as  much  as  possible  in  the 
shadows. 

"Did  you  see  that?"  asked  Jack  of  his  chum 
in  a  low  voice. 

"Yes.    What  do  you  make  it  out  to  be?" 

"He  isn't  a  German  soldier,  for  he  isn't  in 
uniform.  Have  any  of  our  crowd  found  a  way 
out  of  this  place  by  any  chance?" 

"I  don't  know.    If  they  have — " 


THE  ESCAPE  209 

The  boy's  words  were  broken  off  by  a  low- 
voiced  call  from  the  slinking  figure.  It  asked : 

"Are  you  American,  French  or  English 
prisoners  ?" 

"Some  of  each  variety,"  answered  Jack,  while 
at  the  sound  of  that  voice  Tom  Raymond  felt  a 
thrill  of  hope. 

"If  you  get  out,  is  there  a  chance  for  you  to 
get  away  in  your  aircraft?"  the  figure  in  the 
shadow  questioned.  "Be  careful,  don't  let  the 
guards  hear." 

"There  are  only  two,  and  they're  over  at  the 
front  gate,"  said  Jack,  as  Tom  drew  nearer  in 
order  better  to  hear  the  tones  of  that  voice. 
"They  seem  more  occupied  in  watching  the  fire 
than  in  looking  at  us,"  went  on  Jack. 

"Good!"  exclaimed  the  man.  "Now  listen. 
I  am  an  American,  and  I  was  captured  by  the 
Germans,  through  spy  work,  some  time  ago, 
in  Paris.  I  was  brought  here,  and  they  have 
been  trying  to  force  me  to  disclose  the  secret 
of  some  of  my  inventions. 

"I  refused,  and  was  sentenced  to  be  shot  to- 
morrow. But  to-night  you  fortunately  raided 
this  place.  My  prison  was  one  of  the  places  to 
be  blown  up,  and  I  managed  to  escape,  without 
being  hurt  much.  I  heard  that  they  had  cap- 
tured the  crew  of  one  of  the  airships,  and  I 
came  to  see  if  I  could  help.  They  don't  know 


2io  THE  ESCAPE 

yet  that  I'm  free,  and  I  have  two  hand  grenades. 

"Now  listen  carefully.  I'll  throw  the  grenades 
at  the  front  gate.  By  shattering  that  it  may  be 
possible  for  you  to  get  out.  The  two  sentries 
will  have  to  take  the  chances  of  war.  If  you  get 
out  can  you  get  away  in  your  airship  ?" 

"Yes,  and  we  can  take  you  with  us  —  Dad !" 
exclaimed  Tom  in  a  tense  whisper. 

"Who  speaks?"  hoarsely  asked  the  man  in 
the  shadow  of  the  stockade. 

"It  is  I  —  your  son  —  Tom  Raymond !  Oh, 
thank  heaven  I  have  found  you  at  last !"  ex- 
claimed Tom,  and  he  tried  to  stretch  his  hand 
through  the  barbed  wire,  but  it  was  too  close. 

"Is  it  really  you,  Tom,  my  boy?"  asked  Mr. 
Raymond  in  a  broken  voice,  full  of  wonder. 

"Yes!  And  to  think  I  should  find  you  here, 
of  all  places!"  whispered  Tom.  "I  won't  stop 
now  to  ask  how  it  happened.  Can  you  throw 
those  grenades  at  the  gate?" 

"I  can,  and  will!  Tell  your  friends  to  run 
back  to  the  far  end  of  the  stockade  to  avoid 
being  hurt.  I  can  crouch  down  behind  some  of 
the  ruined  walls." 

Tom  and  Jack  quickly  communicated  the 
good  news  to  their  friends,  that  a  rescue  was 
about  to  be  attempted.  It  was  a  desperate 
chance,  but  they  were  in  the  mood  for  such. 

The  two  guards  alone  remaining  of  the  force 


THE  ESCAPE  211 

that  had  been  posted  about  the  stockade  were 
so  distracted  by  the  fires  and  explosions  around 
them,  and  so  fearful  of  their  own  safety,  that 
they  did  not  pay  much  attention  to  the  prison- 
ers. So  when  Tom  and  Jack  passed  the  word, 
and  the  airship  crew  ran  to  the  end  of  the 
stockade  and  crouched  down  to  avoid  injury 
when  the  hand  grenades  should  be  exploded, 
the  guards  paid  little  attention. 

Mr.  Raymond,  for  it  was  indeed  he,  crawled 
to  a  position  of  vantage,  and  then  threw  the 
hand  grenades.  They  were  fitted  with  short- 
time  fuses,  and  almost  as  soon  as  they  fell  near 
the  stockade  gate  they  exploded  with  a  loud 
report.  A  great  hole  was  torn  in  the  ground, 
and  one  of  the  sentries  was  killed  while  the 
other  was  so  badly  injured  as  to  be  incapable 
of  giving  an  alarm.  The  gate  was  blown  to 
pieces. 

"Come  on!"  cried  Tom  to  his  friends,  as  he 
saw  what  his  father  had  done.  "It's  now  or 
never,  before  they  rush  in  on  us." 

They  raced  to  the  breach  in  the  wire  wall  of 
the  stockade.  Mr.  Raymond,  springing  up  from 
where  he  had  taken  refuge  behind  a  pile  of 
refuse,  was  there  to  greet  those  he  had  saved, 
and  he  and  Tom  clasped  hands  silently  in  the 
gloom  that  was  lighted  up  by  the  fires  and  the 
bursts  of  light  from  the  munition  explosions. 


212  THE  ESCAPE 

"Oh,  Dad!  And  it's  really  you!"  murmured 
Tom. 

"Yes,  my  boy!  I  never  expected  to  see  you 
again.  Did  you  know  I  was  here?" 

"I  never  dreamed  of  it !  But  don't  let's  stop 
to  talk.  We  must  get  to  the  airship  at  once! 
But  you  are  wounded,  Dad!" 

"Nothing  but  a  splinter  from  a  bomb.  It's 
only  a  cut  on  the  head,  Son,"  and  Mr.  Raymond 
wiped  away  the  blood  that  trickled  down  on  his 
face. 

The  newly  freed  prisoners  lost  no  time.  With 
a  rush  they  made  for  the  airship.  If  they  could 
only  get  aboard  and  start  it  off  all  would  yet 
be  well.  Could  they  do  it  ? 

Momentary  silence  had  followed  the  detona- 
tion of  the  two  hand  grenades  thrown  by  Mr. 
Raymond,  but  now  there  came  yells  of  rage 
from  the  Germans,  disclosing  that  they  had 
become  aware  of  what  was  going  on. 

"Lively,  everybody!"  cried  Tom,  as  he  led 
the  way  to  the  big  plane. 

"Are  we  all  here?"  asked  Jack. 

A  rapid  count  showed  that  not  one  of  the 
brave  force  had  been  left  behind. 

"Is  there  room  for  me?"  asked  Mr.  Ray- 
mond. 

"Well,  I  should  say  so!" 

"If  there  isn't  I'll  stay  behind,"  cried  Jack. 


THE  ESCAPE  213 

"No  you  won't!"  exclaimed  Tom.  "There'll 
be  room  all  right !" 

The  running  men  reached  the  plane  just  as 
they  could  see,  in  the  light  of  the  burning  fac- 
tories, a  squad  of  Germans  rushing  to  intercept 
them.  In  haste  they  scrambled  aboard,  and 
pressed  the  self-starter  on  the  engine.  There 
was  a  throbbing  roar,  answered  by  a  burst  of 
fire  from  the  German  rifles,  for  the  place  had 
been  so  devastated  that  no  machine  guns  were 
available  just  then. 

"All  aboard?"  asked  Tom,  as  he  stood  ready 
to  put  the  motors  at  full  speed  and  send  the 
craft  along  the  ground,  and  then  up  into  the  air 

"All  aboard — we're  all  here !"  answered  Jack, 
who  had  kept  count.  And  Mr.  Raymond  was 
included. 

Then  with  a  louder  roar  the  motors  jumped 
to  greater  speed,  and  the  Italian  plane  started 
off.  In  another  instant  it  rose  into  the  air. 

With  yells  of  rage  the  Germans  even  tried  to 
hold  it  back  with  their  hands,  and,  failing,  they 
increased  their  fire.  But  though  the  plane  was 
hit  several  times,  and  two  on  board  shot,  one 
later  dying  from  his  wounds,  the  whole  party 
got  off.  A  few  minutes  later  they  were  above 
the  burning  factories,  and  had  a  view  of  the 
great  destruction  wrought  on  the  German  base. 
So  completely  destroyed  was  it  that  few  defense 


214  THE  ESCAPE 

guns  were  left  in  condition  to  fire  at  the 
aeroplane. 

"Well,  we  did  that  in  great  shape !"  exclaimed 
Jack,  as  they  were  on  their  way  over  the  Rhine 
again. 

"Couldn't  have  been  better,"  conceded  Tom. 
"And,  best  of  all,  we  have  dad  with  us." 

"How  did  it  all  happen?"  asked  Jack. 

"I  don't  know.  We'll  hear  the  story  when 
we  are  safe  in  France." 

And  safe  they  were  as  the  gray  morning 
broke.  They  arrived  just  as  the  crew  of  the 
other  plane  were  relating,  with  sorrow,  the  fall 
of  Tom,  Jack  and  their  comrades,  and  the  rejoic- 
ing was  great  when  it  was  known  they  were 
safe,  and  had  not  only  outwitted  the  Huns,  but 
had  brought  away  a  most  important  prisoner. 

"And  now  let's  hear  how  it  all  happened," 
begged  Major  de  Trouville,  when  the  injured 
had  been  made  as  comfortable  as  possible. 
There  were  three  of  these,  and  one  dead  on  the 
plane  that  returned  first. 

The  story  of  the  attack  on  the  German  base 
was  given  in  detail,  and  then  Mr.  Raymond 
took  up  the  tale  from  the  point  where  he  had 
landed  in  Europe. 

He  had  started  for  Paris,  just  as  he  had 
written  Tom,  and  had  taken  lodgings  in  the 
Rue  Lafayette.  He  went  out  just  before  the 


THE  ESCAPE  215 

starting  of  the  bombardment  by  the  big  gun, 
and  so  escaped  injury,  but  he  fell  into  the  hands 
of  some  German  spies,  who  were  on  his  trail, 
and  who  succeeded,  after  having  drugged  him, 
in  getting  him  into  Germany. 

The  spies  had  succeeded  in  getting  on  the 
trail  of  a  new  invention  Mr.  Raymond  had  per- 
fected, and  which  he  had  offered  to  the  Allies. 
He  had  come  to  Paris  on  this  business.  The 
Huns  demanded  that  he  devote  it  to  their  inter- 
ests, but  he  refused,  and  he  had  been  held  a 
prisoner  over  the  Rhine,  every  sort  of  pressure 
being  brought  to  bear  on  him  to  make  him 
accede  to  the  wishes  of  his  captors. 

"But  I  refused,"  he  said,  "and  they  decided 
I  should  be  shot.  Whether  this  was  bluff  or  not 
I  don't  know.  But  they  never  got  a  chance  at 
me.  In  the  night  I  heard,  in  my  prison,  the 
sound  of  explosions,  and  I  soon  realized  what 
had  happened.  It  was  your  bold  airship  raid, 
and  one  of  the  bombs  burst  my  prison.  I  ran 
out  and  saw  the  Italian  planes  in  the  air. 

"What  then  happened  you  know  better  than 
I,  but  what  you  probably  do  not  know  is  that 
you  very  likely  owe  your  lives  to  a  dispute  that 
arose  between  the  German  infantry  and  the  air 
squadron  division,"  and  he  indicated  Tom,  Jack 
and  the  others  who  had  been  in  the  stockade. 

"How  was  that?"  asked  Jack. 


2i6  THE  ESCAPE 

"The  airmen  claimed  you  as  their  prey,  and 
the  infantrymen  said  they  were  entitled  to  call 
you  theirs.  So,  even  in  the  midst  of  the  fire  and 
destruction,  the  commandant  had  to  order  you 
put  in  the  stockade  until  he  could  decide  whose 
prisoners  you  were.  The  infantrymen  said  they 
had  captured  you,  but  the  airmen  said  their  fire 
had  brought  down  your  plane." 

"Well,  that  was  partly  true,"  said  Tom.  "But 
it  was  an  explosion  from  below  that  knocked 
us  out  temporarily.  But  we're  all  right  now. 
And  so  are  you,  aren't  you,  Dad?" 

"Yes,  but  I  worried  a  lot,  not  knowing  what 
had  happened  to  you,  Tom,  and  being  unable 
to  guess  what  would  happen  to  me.  I  was  in 
the  hands  of  clever  and  unscrupulous  enemies. 
How  clever  they  were  you  can  judge  when  I 
tell  you  they  took  me  right  out  of  Paris.  Per- 
haps the  bombardment  made  it  easier.  But  tell 
me  —  what  of  the  big  guns?" 

"Some  of  them  are  out  of  commission,  thanks 
to  your  brave  boy  and  his  comrades,"  said 
Major  de  Trouville. 

"Good!"  cried  Mr.  Raymond.  "Some  rumor 
to  that  effect  sifted  in  to  me  there,  but  it 
seemed  too  good  to  be  true.  The  Germans  must 
be  wild  with  rage." 

"I  guess  they  are,"  admitted  Jack. 

"And  it  would  have  gone  hard  with  you  if 


THE  ESCAPE  217 

they  had  found  you  were  the  ones  responsible," 
went  on  Tom's  father.  "As  soon  as  I  was  out 
of  my  prison  and  saw  the  state  of  affairs,  I 
managed  to  get  the  grenades,  and  I  decided  to 
rescue  the  airship  men  if  I  could.  I  never 
dreamed  my  own  son  would  be  among  them, 
or  that  I  might  be  brought  away." 

And  now  it  but  remains  to  add  that  because 
of  their  exploits  Tom  and  Jack  received  new 
honors  at  the  hands  of  the  grateful  French,  and, 
moreover,  were  promoted. 

Mr.  Raymond,  who  had  steadfastly  refused 
to  reveal  the  secret  of  his  invention  to  the  Huns, 
immediately  turned  it  over  to  the  Allies. 

Word  of  Mr.  Raymond's  safety  and  of  the 
success  of  Tom  and  Jack  was  sent  to  those  in 
Bridgeton,  and  that  city  had  new  reasons  for 
being  proud  of  her  sons. 

But  the  war  was  not  over,  and  the  Germans 
might  be  expected  to  develop  other  forms  of 
frightfulness  besides  the  long-range  guns, 
which,  for  the  time  being,  were  silenced.  How- 
ever, the  destruction  of  the  factories  and  am- 
munition stores  by  the  raid  over  the  Rhine  was 
a  blow  that  told  heavily  on  the  Hun. 

"Well,  it  seems  there's  another  vacation  com- 
ing to  us,"  said  Tom  to  Jack  one  morning,  as 
they  walked  away  from  the  breakfast  table  in 
their  mess. 


218  THE  ESCAPE 

"Yes  ?  Well,  I  think  we  can  use  it.  What  do 
you  say  to  a  run  into  Paris  to  see  your  father? 
He's  surely  there  now,  and  I'd  like  to  have  a 
talk  with  him." 

"With — him?"  asked  Tom,  and  there  was  a 
pecular  smile  on  his  face. 

"Of  course,"  said  Jack. 

"Oh,"  was  all  Tom  answered,  but  he  laughed 
heartily. 

And  so,  with  Tom  and  Jack  on  their  way  to 
Paris,  for  a  brief  respite  from  the  war,  we  will 
take  leave  of  them  for  a  time.  That  they  were 
destined  to  take  a  further  part  in  the  great 
struggle  need  not  be  doubted,  for  the  Air  Ser- 
vice boys  were  not  the  ones  to  quit  until  the 
world  had  been  made  a  decent  place  in  which 
to  live. 

THE   END 


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